


Social Liability

by Lalaen



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Awkward Sexual Situations, Developing Relationship, Groping, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Roommates, Sex in a Car, Slow Build, they're practically married and Bert is oblivious
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-14
Updated: 2015-08-05
Packaged: 2018-01-04 14:49:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 29,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1082288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lalaen/pseuds/Lalaen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reiner Braun - Parties at least three nights a week. That one douchebag who won't wear any shirts that don't show off his biceps. Somehow manages to be the world's most likeable guy. Openly homosexual.</p><p>Bertholdt Fubar - Does his homework the same day he gets it. Thinks jeans make him look too tall. Basically embarrassed by his own very existence. Held hands with a girl when he was fourteen. Like twice.</p><p>Bert has never even considered that they do not have the kind of friendship that college-age guys usually have. It all seems very normal to him, but then again, he doesn't have many friends. He's okay with that though, because it seems like all anyone does is get drunk and he's not too interested.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

You wear a lot of sweatpants. 

Though a lot of people would probably expect that to be the lead up to a dick joke (and it certainly would be if Reiner was the one to say it), that's not it at all.

The simple fact of the matter is that wearing jeans make your legs look ten times longer and skinnier than they already are. At almost 6' 4", that's the last thing you need.

Nothing is worse than track shorts, though. Those damn things were singlehandedly responsible for you swearing off running at the end of high school. They might look ridiculous on literally everyone, but they make you look like a hairy insect. As if you weren't incredibly self conscious enough about your height already.

So now that you're in college, there's no more relay practice, no more awful track shorts, and a lot of sweat pants.

The coffee goes without saying.

You're just pulling on a shirt and thinking about the coffee you're going to get on your way to class when Reiner busts through your door. He doesn't knock, but that's nothing new. You can't even bring yourself to be surprised.

He's got a lopsided but just as shit-disturbing as ever grin on his face, and despite the fact that he's obviously nursing a nasty hangover, he can barely stop chuckling long enough to talk to you. "Bert, fuck. I've gotta show you something. I have to fucking show you this, oh my god."

You decide that although you should leave for class, you're not going to argue. You have a few minutes for whatever the hell this is. You humor him, and he motions you over to where his laptop is sitting on the tiny kitchen table.

It's a video on Facebook. His Facebook, a cursory glance tells you.

The preview shows what you can only assume to be the party he tried to drag you to last night.

Oh no.

He presses play, and there's the immediate roar of ambient party noise that the little mic on Reiner's iPhone obviously can't handle. The phone is shakily focused on Eren and Jean sitting on a couch, looking pretty characteristically angry as hell.

"Kiss! Fucking kiss!" You hear your roommate yell drunkenly from behind the camera. You feel your hand coming up to cover your face. Oh my god. Oh my _god_.

You see Armin's little blond head in the back, and can barely hear, "Reiner, don't encourage them!" over the thud of the music.

Visible even with the grainy video quality is the slow shift in Eren's face from passably normal to that insane, single-minded competitive look of his. You start blushing from secondhand embarrassment.

For a split second, Jean looks a little scared before he bares his teeth right back. Eren suddenly and violently grabs the front of Kirchstien's shirt before…

You're no expert, but you wouldn't call that kissing. It looks like he's trying to punch Jean's face with his own face. Reiner is catcalling and laughing so hard that the video is even shakier, and Armin is barely visible in the back with a look of resignation and a hand to his forehead.

The two of them are unsurprisingly competitive even when it comes to drunken making out, and it appears that the competition they're having is who can devour who.

You think you're glad you stayed home last night.

Just as suddenly as it began, Eren shoves Jean off and gives him what you think is a surprisingly straight punch right in the nose. The iphone mic overloads with the 'ohhh!' of what sounds like the entire room, and then the video ends with Mikasa diving into frame to separate the two.

Reiner has his head down on the table, laughing his ass off.

"You're a shit." You murmur quietly at him, rubbing your cheek in hopes that your blush will go down.

"Yeah." He's calmed down in favour of rubbing his forehead and grimacing. "And you should feed me, you know that?"

You sigh heavily, and give him what you hope is a long-suffering look. "I have class. I can't look after you today." Why he chose to go get wasted on a tuesday is beyond you, but you suppose you should blame whoever organized the party. He never could turn one of those down.

Not that anything could ever be as bad as Frosh week, when he'd spent a good twenty four hours in front of the toilet, too sick to hold his head up. It made him call you a mother hen, but you refused to sleep until he was over the worst of what you're pretty sure was alcohol poisoning. However, he'd also called you a 'fucking angel' while he was groaning and faceplanted against your chest. 

At least he'd smartened up after that. He'd never gotten even close to that drunk since.

He leaves his head on the table, waving one hand in a rather dramatic 'go' gesture.

You start up the coffee machine for him before you do. 

You're probably too nice.

-

You found out Reiner was gay in eleventh grade. Though it was shortly going to become common knowledge, as his best friend you were still the first to know. You remember being just a little envious of how he could do that kind of thing worry-free.

Of course he could. He's Reiner. He's everyone's big brother, and impossible not to adore.

He was already pretty sure of himself when he told you, but you could tell he was nervous. He didn't care about the school's opinion, but he cared about yours.

You just shrug and ask him why it would change anything, and watch his shoulders drop as he relaxes visibly.

The football team seems to agree with you, as they make it pretty clear to people like their catty girlfriends that they don't want to hear anything bad about him. You aren't really surprised, because everyone loves Reiner.

You're pretty sure that to the people in your high school, you never even existed. That honestly doesn't bother you. You prefer to keep to yourself, and you almost never speak without being spoken to; which rarely happened. You're perfectly content to trail around after your best friend, who has this magical way of making you feel like he hasn't forgotten about you even when he's being a social butterfly and you're just sitting next to him.

He had a lot of friends, but you were never in any doubt that you were his _best_ friend. He's good like that.

When you get home from class a few hours later, it seems like Reiner has mostly gotten over himself. His face still has that slightly pinched look which tells you his headache is probably not gone, but he's up and getting ready for his own, much later class.

"Don't tell me you're planning on going out again." You mumble to him as he leans against the doorframe, texting.

He shrugs. "Ymir wants to hit Sailors tonight. Wanna come?" He always asks you, even though you have literally never said yes. Sometimes he can drag you to a party with the people you actually know, but Friday night at a gay club is never going to happen. Thinking about the noise and the crowd of a club makes you really nervous. 

Admittedly, a lot of things make you nervous.

You shake your head at him, and hope it communicates as half 'no' and half 'I can't believe you're partying two nights in a row'. Not that you're too surprised. This is far from the first time.

Once he's gone, you mess around the apartment a bit; tidying stuff up and doing your homework like a good little student with admittedly no social life. You would rather get it out of the way so you don't have to worry about it. When it gets close to six you put on some pasta because it's easy, and because if Reiner's going out drinking again he really needs to eat something first.

Annie calls you 'super fucking over-protective in your weird little way', but you honestly think nothing of it. 

At quarter after six, you hear the two of them coming down the hall. Ymir's obnoxious laugh and Reiner's deep bass voice are pretty impossible to mistake. Predictably, she throws the door open. "Bertholdt!" she practically sing-songs at you, striding up to sling an arm around your shoulders. You grimace and shrink in on yourself uncomfortably. Why does she always have to do this? "I see molly maid's been at it again." She looks over at Reiner, who's approaching to save you thank god, and gives him an exaggerated wink. You assume they were joking about something before they got here. Your saviour takes her wrist and gently removes her arm from around your shoulders.

Ymir smells like she hasn't showered yet today. You wrinkle your nose imperceptibly and take the pot off the burner. Reiner goes on tiptoe to reach over your shoulder and take down three bowls - yes, you did think ahead sufficiently to make enough for Ymir too. She almost always comes here before they go out, and occasionally brings Christa over to 'keep you company'. You're really not sure why. Not that you have any kind of problem with the girl, you just have absolutely no idea how to talk to her, and feel incredibly awkward trying to keep her entertained without Reiner around.

Christa always said she was 'sooo sorry for imposing!' and talked about how lonely she was without Ymir in the house. You apologize a lot for being such terrible company for her, even though she's usually perfectly content to make sparse small talk over her coursework. She's in nursing, and seems happy for help with the chemistry and math.

"Thanks Bert." Reiner says, shooting you a small smile as he sits down to eat. Ymir's already stuffing her face as usual, but gives a quick thumbs up. You flush slightly at the attention, sliding into your own chair.

Ymir went back to the loud conversation you can only assume she'd been having with Reiner in the hall, barely having the decency to swallow between sentences. "But, oh my _god_ , Reiner, she let me lick her asshole last night. She mewled like a sweet little fucking kitten until she squirted all over my face!"

You choke on your pasta, immediately going cherry red. Oh my god. Oh my fucking god.

Ymir busts out laughing, which only makes you go redder. "You're such a fucking prude!" She manages, barely able to get the words out. 

Reiner chuckles as well. "Nah, you're just disgusting." He cuffs her in the head, and you kind of just cough into your hand until you manage to be only kind of red.

She's still snickering. You try to glare, but you probably just look kind of hurt and you know it.

After Reiner changed his tank top for another essentially identical tank top, they left. Ymir smacked his ass on the way out the door.

…

You're laying on your bed with your laptop not doing a hell of a lot in particular when your phone vibrates. Your immediate thought is that it's Reiner asking you to pick them up because he got wasted, seeing as it's rare that anyone else texts you and even rarer so late.

It's instagram.

You don't really use instagram, ever, and you honestly have no idea why you let Reiner sign up for it.

Okay, you don't really let him do anything. He does what he wants and you go along with it with no protest.

Apparently you're tagged in a picture. You're not sure how you've managed that, seeing as you've been home for ages, but you have your suspects.

It's a selfie of Reiner and Ymir taken in a poorly-lit club. He's wearing Ymir's aviators and has his tank top looped up behind his neck because what else is new. Ymir's hat is on backwards, she's duckfacing and flashing a piece sign, and wearing nothing but a sports bra.

It's captioned, "go to bed bert #colossalloser #bossa$$bitch".

… you really shouldn't have let him make the account for you.

You bite the inside of your lip, a little embarrassed he knew you were still up. It's not like you never go to bed before he gets back home.

Fuck. Now that you think about it, you've never gone to bed before he's gotten back home. 

You faceplant your pillow and try to pretend to yourself that you aren't dying inside.

You are. You're so pathetic it's actually terminal.

He is 'Hot Stud' in your phone because he steals it regularly and he is a dick. You have no idea why you've never changed it back.

Me: I'm so pathetic it might be terminal.  
Hot Stud: hahaha yep buddy  
Hot Stud: you have class at like  
9 fucking go to bed  
Me: I'm doing homework.  
Hot Stud: your a shit liar u   
were done before i got home  
from class  
Me: How do you know?  
Hot Stud: the world hasnt   
ended lol  
Hot Stud: stop worrying go to  
bed christ your going to be gray  
by the time your 20  
Me: *You're  
Me: And I am almost 20.  
Hot Stud: i know you are thats   
the joke lol  
Me: You're not very funny.  
Hot Stud: u fucking wish  
Hot Stud: go to bed before i   
have to come home and tuck   
you in like the little bitch you   
are  
Me: :(  
Hot Stud: ;)

You close your laptop and put it on the floor, then roll over and tell yourself it's time to go to sleep. 

You are still wide awake when you hear the front door click open and closed. Then your door cracks open.

"Go to sleeep Bert," Reiner stage whispers from the door, chuckling in a way that tells you he's definitely still tipsy.

You pretend you were already asleep. He probably doesn't buy it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> aka reflections on annie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eren's entire presence in this fic is a total fucking joke I'm so sorry

You do in fact have class at like nine. It's not that you lost that much sleep, more that you really hate getting out of bed. You hit the alarm three times, then throw one of your pillows at it, and finally literally roll out of the bed; taking most of your blanket with you. The alarm clock is still blaring, and you just kind of groan at it and curl up in a ball. On the floor.

Pretty soon you do give up on that and disentangle yourself from your floor nest.

Reiner's often joked that you look ready to commit murder when you get woken up, and as you stare at yourself in the bathroom mirror even you have to agree.

You are not ready for income tax at nine in the morning. Honestly, you're not sure you're ready for income tax at any time of the day. Accounting in general is not exactly the most fun program, but you have to do something with your life and you're not too bad at it.

On the way to class you feel your phone vibrate, but it makes you nervous to walk and text, so you wait until you get there to take it out. You honestly expect it to be a Facebook alert of some kind anyways.

To your surprise it's an IM alert.

little_miss_annie_94: bertholdt. 

little_miss_annie_94: bertholdt, i know you have class this early today.

Wow no you can't deal with her this early. There's no knowing what she wants or why she thinks you can provide it. How the hell does she even know when you have class? You give your phone a mildly concerned look and go to put it back down.

little_miss_annie_94: don't ignore me.

You actually jump a little in your chair, then definitely just put your phone right in your bag.

As much as you might not be happy about it, when you're up you're up; so you don't have any trouble staying awake during class. You can't say the same of many of your peers.

It's getting cold out, and even though your class is over for the day at noon; you still get a coffee on your way home. When you set your shoulderbag down by the kitchen table, you remember with rising dread that you never replied to Annie.

Despite the extreme temptation to just go to your room and lock your phone out here, continuing to pretend it doesn't exist, you bite the inside of your lip and take the thing out to check it, sitting down at the table.

little_miss_annie_94: do you know you're infuriating?

little_miss_annie_94: answer me you coward. 

little_miss_annie_94: don't make me talk to reiner.

You resist the urge to roll your eyes, despite the fact that she can't see you and will never know you did it. She'd just rather pick on you than let him pick on her, and you know it.

bertholdt1230: I'm answering you. I was in class.

little_miss_annie_94: you're not that much of a kiss up. 

little_miss_annie_94: i've actually seen you text reiner in class, so nice try.

Flushing at being caught in your terrible lie, you decide to just push on and ignore it until she stops. That's usually how Annie works, in your experience.

bertholdt1230: What do you want?

little_miss_annie_94: i wanted to know if the two of you are going back home for winter break.

bertholdt1230: Not as far as I know?

little_miss_annie_94: i knew i should have asked reiner if i wanted a definite answer.

bertholdt1230: You said you didn't want to talk to Reiner.

little_miss_annie_94: haha i don't. 

little_miss_annie_94: if my dad calls during break tell him i'm with you and we're having a great time and shit, okay?

little_miss_annie_94: if he wants to talk to me tell him i'm in the shower then call me and we'll figure something out.

little_miss_annie_94: he wasn't too happy about the whole me staying with two guys thing but it's not like he hasn't known you since before your balls dropped.

little_miss_annie_94: or like he couldn't find you and kill you if something happened to me.

little_miss_annie_94: i had to remind him reiner was gay three times before he agreed.

You find yourself biting the inside of your lip again as you read over her messages. You have no idea what she's planning but it certainly doesn't sit well with you at all. In fact, you're pretty filled with dread.

bertholdt1230: Where are you going?

little_miss_annie_94: none of your business.

There it is. That's why she didn't want to talk to Reiner. She knows there's no way in hell you're going to get it out of her.

Just as you're sweating over how to stall from agreeing to do it, Reiner returns from the one hour lecture you're a little surprised he actually went to. "Who're you talking to?" he asks curiously, and instead of waiting for a reply, he comes and leans over your shoulder, planting his hand on the table.

You can almost feel him mouthing the words as he reads them right next to your ear. Then he snorts.

"Tell Annie she should change her fucking middle school email. Also tell her she's a bitch and I don't want to talk to her either." You flush because there's no way in hell you're telling her that, and glance back at him worriedly. Unsurprisingly, he's smirking.

"… tell her she'll owe us one."

You relax a little, typing it out fast so she can't harass you for not replying.

bertholdt1230: Reiner says you'll owe us one.

little_miss_annie_94: bertholdt you're fucking useless.

Okay, you can probably get away with not replying to that. You hurriedly tuck your phone back in your bag so you don't have to look at or think about the conversation anymore.

Reiner's phone buzzes almost immediately and he pulls it out of his pocket. He snorts and his smirk widens, then he quickly taps something out before he shows you the screen.

@imthejuggernautbitch just do it okay.

leonharder

Annie Leonhardt

@leonharder okay angelica

imthejuggernautbitch

Reiner Braun

You probably wouldn't have snickered if the phone didn't go off again before Reiner took it away.

@imthejuggernautbitch sorry i don't know who you're talking to.

leonharder

Annie Leonhardt 

…

Annie is the only person you've ever dated.

It was in grade nine, and as with many things in your life, it definitely wouldn't have happened without Reiner.

In middle school, the quiet girl filled the hole left in your group by Berrick. Even though she was twelve when you met her, she was five foot then and she never grew. At that age she had her hair in a father-approved bob with straight bangs and wore too much eyeliner. Though she was pretty open about her dislike of everyone around her, Reiner had decided to adopt her and she couldn't escape from that. You've always secretly thought that his forcing her to have friends is why she acts like she dislikes him so much to this day.

By high school, she started wearing her hair up and the bangs she was desperately trying to grow out were always in her eyes. Despite her tiny height and the fact that the two of you were starting to shoot up, she refused to wear heels and preferred unprovoked punching as revenge for her lack of growth spurt. In fact, the loud clunking of her huge unlaced combat boots was a pretty distinctive way to recognize her approach; and to this day reads to you as a signal of impending doom.

Her father also strongly encouraged the wearing of skirts - you remember comments from even the earliest times you went over to her house condoning how 'unladylike' her few pairs of jeans were - so she owned what seemed like hundreds. Every single one of them was black, knee length, and essentially indistinguishable from all the others. They covered her defiantly messy room like a flock of birds. The uniform was completed by a neutral-toned and far too large hoodie, even in the middle of summer.

All in all, no one could miss Annie. Especially with the two of you looking more and more like a bodyguard the more you both grew; a bodyguard anyone who'd ever met her would know she really, really did not need.

She also never wore a bra. Reiner being gay didn't really surprise you just for the fact that he had never seemed to notice. You were pretty sure you weren't being perverted or anything, but she was by no means flat chested and you often caught yourself staring when she did something like jog up a flight of stairs.

That, Reiner did somehow manage to notice. 

When he confronted you about it, all you could do was go bright red and stammer that yeah; she was pretty. It was the truth, after all. 

He 'asked her out' for you. You hid behind him trying to cover your red face.

She sort of just shrugged.

The month or so that followed is something that both you and Annie now refuse to speak of. It was full of you desperately trying to avoid being alone with her and kind of awkwardly trailing around the school holding hands; her pausing every few minutes to wordlessly wipe the sweat off on her skirt.

It wasn't until applications for post-secondary were going in that she casually mentioned she was not going to community college with the two of you. She had applied for three separate prestigious law schools with every intention of getting in.

That had not surprised you at all. She was always one to very much go her own way.

...

Jean BetterThanEren Kirchstein posted at 7pm

THIS WEEK AT THE DORMS BITCHES!!!

Ymir YourQueen commented

FUCK YEAH MY PLACE WHUT WHUT BYOB

Reiner Braun commented

since when hasnt it been??

Eren BetterThanJean Jaeger commented

I WILL BE DRUNKER THAN ANYONE HAS EVER BEEN DRUNK BEFORE

Reiner Braun commented

since when arent u???

Sasha Braus commented

I'll bring chips!!! c:

Armin Arlert commented

Reiner please bring Bert along I hate being the only one who doesn't drink :C

Eren BetterThanJean Jaeger commented

armin NO ONE IS MAKING YOU COME

Armin Arlert commented

You'll thank me in the morning like usual >C

Ymir YourQueen commented

ARMIN ARLERT PROFESSIONAL WET BLANKET EVERYONE

Reiner Braun commented

hey ymir make sure christa wears cute panties ;)

Ymir YourQueen commented

YO YOU WANT ME TO CUT YOUR DICK OFF??

Christa Historia Reiss commented 

omg reiner!! >///<

Sasha Braus commented

Aw yeah Chris back it uuup!

Marco Bodt commented

Jean are you serious?? You almost failed PT last week!!

Jean BetterThanEren Kirchstein commented

come on man it's just fun

Ymir YourQueen commented 

nope theres the wet blanket LOL!!

Marco Bodt commented

Don't come to my dorm if you're drunk okay? Please.

Reiner Braun commented

ymir you crazy bitch

Jean BetterThanEren Kirchstein commented

maaaaarcoooooo :<

 

Reiner pushes your door open, leaning against the frame, and you glance up at him with your chin still resting on your hand. "Hey. You should come to this week's party." When you don't immediately shake your head, his lips start to pull into a smile.

"I guess I can come." You mumble, because he's looking at you so expectantly and you have nothing else to do. His grin widens, and he goes back to his room without closing your door. As usual. 

 

Reiner Braun commented

he said hes gonna come armin

Armin Arlert commented

Yaaaay!

Mikasa Ackerman-Jaeger commented

Eren's right you know, you don't have to go. I'll look after him.

Eren BetterThanJean Jaeger commented

HOLY SHIT MIKASA BUTT OUT

Eren BetterThanJean Jaeger commented

IM FINE EVERYONE LEAVE ME ALONE

Christa Historia Reiss commented

aww poor eren!! >_<

Eren BetterThanJean Jaeger commented

wait WAIT NOT FRIDAY RIGHT IM BUSY FRIDAY

Jean BetterThanEren Kirchstein commented

hey hey hey WHOA since when have you got shit to do??

Eren BetterThanJean Jaeger commented

DEAL W IT

Ymir YourQueen commented

thursday actually bitch

Eren BetterThanJean Jaeger commented

FUCK YEAH

 

You're wondering if you're going to regret agreeing to go, because you usually do. You usually just end up incredibly embarrassed by everyone who's too shitfaced to be embarrassed for themselves and fending off Reiner's admittedly gentle attempts to get you to drink 'so you actually have fun for once'.

He's never actually succeeded in that. If you even think about the humiliating shit that might happen if you actually did get drunk, you feel the bottom drop out of your stomach. No way.

You just don't really understand what's so great about watching Eren vomit all over himself once a week.

… 

You regret it.

You're standing in the corner of the dorm common room and hoping that you can shrink into the wall and disappear. You're trying very, very hard not to look at Ymir sitting in the armchair with Christa straddling her lap, locked in a very graphic kiss that was only getting more explicit by the moment - Christa's shirt was hiked up almost to her bra.

Predictably, Eren has already run to puke in the sink and gone back for more. In fact, at this moment Armin is pleading with him and trying to pull his latest drink out of his hand. He's being drowned out by loud 'I'm fine!'s. Mikasa is perched in another chair, typing on her phone. She looks up at Eren pretty frequently, though, and that's only what you notice. 

Reiner appears next to you and bumps a red plastic cup of beer against his chest. "Come on, man. You'll have more fun. Well, any fun." He's red in the face and grinning ear to ear.

You shake your head quickly, flushing slightly at the very thought. Or maybe it's the kind of weird way he's looking at you. Honestly, it's pretty common for you to have no idea why you're blushing.

He shrugs and knocks back half of it instead in one go. You bite the inside of your lip, and a hand instinctively goes out to steady him when he lowers his head, obviously dizzy. 

"Slow down." You mumble, feeling him rest a little of his weight on you for a moment. 

When his head comes up, he's grinning again. "I'm good. I can drink anyone here under the table anyways." 

You know you're giving him a worried look, but he just waves you off and kind of wanders away. You honestly have no idea why he always wants to bring you when you know you're also what Ymir calls a 'professional wet blanket'. 

It isn't long before Armin comes over to you with a put-out expression on his face. You'd normally be perfectly fine with that, except in your experience at parties all he does is whine about Eren not listening to him instead of holding an interesting conversation like usual.

"I can't believe Eren. I swear he's going to get himself killed."

Oh boy, it looks like he's not going to prove you wrong.  

You try to kind of nod and look sympathetic, which you're pretty sure comes across because you hear you're good at looking worried about things. 

You flinch further into your corner at a loud "Ohhh!" That was very obviously Jean, and look quickly in the offender's direction. It looks like Eren just stumbled onto him, and he's got a huge shit-eating grin on his face. 

You swear he can be worse than Reiner.

"Ereeen." He says in a loud, teasing voice, pushing Jaeger back up straight. "Guess what everybody? Eren's fucking a teacher! Eren's fucking the <i>drill sergeant</i>!" 

Eren's face suddenly has that wild look he gets as well as being bright red, and you're incredibly glad you're on the other side of the room. Oh no. Ohhh no.

Jaeger swings a completely walleyed punch at Jean, who barely bothers to dodge. "No wonder you never fail PT! Pretty hard to do when you're sucking the Sargent's diiick." You feel your cheeks burning. Eren throws another punch and just ends up falling on his face. Mikasa's already there, helping him up, but Armin scrambles over anyways. You can tell from here that the girl has an iron grip on her brother. 

Reiner's snickering against the wall, and Ymir has actually stopped sucking Christa's face so she can laugh like an idiot. Connie, who wasn't present for the earlier Facebook conversation, looks like he might be drunk enough to try and get between Eren and Jean, something everyone knows is a terrible idea. 

It'd be an exaggeration to say you're not worried about it, but you know that between Mikasa and Reiner there won't be any real fights. 

A song that you mildly recognize comes on, and Sasha cheers; pumping the volume and throwing her hands up. 

Another cheer alerts you to the fact that Christa is flailing to get out of Ymir's lap. Reiner goes over and scoops her up under the armpits. Her skirt gets caught on his  belt and hikes up, and you feel your cheeks burning when you catch an eyeful of her blue and white polka dotted panties. She shrieks with glee, playfully kicking her feet. You feel a strange pang, and go redder. Christa looks like a child when Reiner holds her. He dumps her on the table, laughing, and she immediately scrambles to her feet.

Oh no. 

You have no idea where such a seemingly innocent girl learned to dance like that. Ymir leads in the hollering, but almost all of the men (and Sasha) join in. When she rips her blouse open to reveal a matching lacy bra, you cover your face. Oh my god.

You don't dare look until the song ends. When you do, you immediately cover your face again - Christa is flushed and giggling, arms crossed over her completely bare chest and wearing only panties.

You move your hand enough to see Reiner approaching you. He's still grinning, but you're pretty sure it's partially at how embarrassed you are; and that only embarrasses you more. Suddenly his hand lands heavily on your shoulder, enough to jar you. You're startled but not surprised, he always seems to forget his strength a little when he's drunk.

"Maybe Ymir's right, you really are a prude." He chuckles, sounding slightly breathless. "She's a really pretty girl, isn't she?" There's a strange glimmer in his eyes, but you're pretty sure it has to do with his current inebriation. "Wouldn't think such a sweet  little angel could be so naughty." 

You just kind of sputter, because you have no idea how you're supposed to respond to that. He just chuckles again. Behind him, you notice that Ymir got Christa off the table and has given her her own shirt, thank god. You're used enough to Ymir in nothing but a sports bra that it doesn't bother you any more.

Reiner's hand is still on your shoulder, and you can feel him leaning on you again. "Wanna go home?" He says in a low voice. Maybe he's tired of you hiding in the corner, or maybe since Jean is starting to slur his words, this is when he'd usually go home anyways. You know Jean is slurring because he and Connie are yelling at each other. You give Reiner a noncommittal look that probably comes off more as helpless.

"… yeah. Let's go home." He answers his own question. You glance around the room to see Christa and Ymir at it again, now less a lot of clothes. Eren is laying on the floor and refusing to let Armin get him up. Sasha's ponytail has fallen out and she's dancing alone by the ipod dock.

You're pretty glad you're going home.

Despite the difficulty caused by your height difference, Reiner leans on you on the way home. Funny, you wouldn't have said he was <i>that</i> drunk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm the juggernaut, BITCH


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> aka what are boundaries

Of course, the very next night Ymir wanted to 'hit the club'. Apparently it's much better on a Friday, which is pretty easy for you to believe despite having never been. You can't help but be incredibly glad Ymir didn't bring Christa along this time - you don't know how you could face her without thinking about the fact that you've just seen her almost completely naked.

The very thought is enough to make your cheeks start to go pink.

Reiner does come back a little earlier than usual. He doesn't ever call out that he's home, but the sound of the front door opening is pretty unmistakable. A few minutes later he's in your room and flopping half sprawled on top of you on the bed. Like usual, he smells like beer and isn't wearing a shirt.

"Get your homework done?" He sounds a little breathless. He's also more than a little sticky with sweat, which is kind of gross, but you're used to it. You just nod at him, and he rests his chin on your breastbone, which is pretty uncomfortable. "… it got pretty fucking wild. That's why we left. Crowd got too drunk." He somehow manages to shrug in his awkward position.

Then something occurs to you, and you have no idea how it never occurred to you before. "Why don't you ever bring anyone home?" You ask softly.

"… There's already someone here, isn't there?" He says with a tired grin. You flush almost instinctively - it was never your intention to be a cockblock. When you start to think about it, he's never been gone all night either, or even past the time that all the bars have to close.

Is that strange? Maybe not. Considering his loyal character, he might not be that interested in sleeping around. On the other hand, you're a little surprised he hasn't talked all of the guys in your friends group into experimenting with him. Though, maybe he has. It's not like you'd know.

You've heard that happens.

It makes you a little uncomfortable to think that it has and he's never mentioned it to you.

You realize he's still kind of just looking at you and you haven't said anything, and most people think it's really fucking weird when you do that. You're very bad at coming up with things to say.

He doesn't seem phased at all. You guess he's just as used to it as you're used to him being sweaty and laying on top of you - something he also does after he works out. 

"I wouldn't mind." You mumble, after what you're aware is way too long a time after the relevant dialogue. 

He just raises his eyebrows at you, and it makes you wonder if you would mind. Clearly, he knows you wouldn't say anything about it. It's not like the idea of hearing him fuck someone thrills you, but you would just… hide in your room. That's what you do whenever anyone's over and you've had enough of them. You're pretty sure that of course anyone would be a little bothered by being around when their best friend had sex, but he doesn't have to be so nice about it.

…

So, it's not like you (usually) do anything embarrassing in the shower, but that doesn't prevent you from being incredibly embarrassed when Reiner just walks in on you like he does. He's insisted that he can't see anything through the frosted glass, and that even if he could it's not anything he hasn't seen before.

That's true, but just because you've changed together since you were small doesn't mean you understand why he can casually come into the bathroom and take a piss while you're showering.

It's not even the embarrassment so much as that it always scares the _hell_ out of you.

Maybe he keeps doing it because he thinks it's funny.

"Reiner!" 

"Calm down. Told you before I can't see anything." You can hear the smirk in his voice, and it only increases your urge to cover yourself like a girl. Logically, you know you should calm down, because you can only see his outline as well. If you're being honest with yourself, you're probably just annoyed because your heart is still hammering from when you suddenly saw a shadow move outside the shower door. "If you were jerking off I can't tell."

You're so mortified that your mouth actually opens and closes a few times before you manage to make words come out of it. "I. Wasn't…"

He snorts and it's incredibly unflattering. "I know you weren't. Pull the stick out of your ass, yeah?"

The turn of phrase just makes you blush more. He clearly knows you're still flustered, and rests his hand on the frosted glass. "I've known you since we were seven, Bert. I'm pretty sure I can piss in the same room as you."

"You can, maybe." You manage to sputter. 

He just chuckles again. "Well, fortunately for you, you're not the one doing the pissing." His other hand rests on the glass as well, creating two big black silhouettes which would be incredibly threatening if it were anyone other than Reiner. You realize he's leaning in a little, and thump the glass door with your hand very suddenly.

"Reiner!" You bark again, and he jumps back, totally startled by your outburst. It's exceedingly rare for you to raise your voice, which means it scares the shit out of him every single time.

"Okay, okay. Just teasing." You can hear the smirk - even though you just made him jump it's already back.

You flip him off, but only because you know he can't see it. 

You still feel guilty afterwards.

...

Funnily enough, it looks like it's going to be a quiet weekend. You have no idea whether Reiner doesn't feel like going out or simply has nowhere to go, but you're not questioning it; because the weekends he stays at home are the ones that he drags you out of your room to watch movies with him. You're not sure why. The most obvious answer is that this is how he gets in his time hanging out with you, but you think it's actually kind of likely that he just can't go five seconds without some kind of socialization.

You don't get that at all. Going to that party was more than enough people-who-weren't-Reiner for the next month or so, honestly, Ymir showing up in your kitchen being herself was good for about a week.

He just kind of throws himself down next to you on the couch, an arm behind you on the back. You're pretty used to it, because it's just something he does. He's already paging through the shitty action movie section on netflix. It's a real struggle to get him to watch anything else, let alone anything remotely cerebral, so you gave up long ago. The closest you could ever get was 'war movies' that ended up being more about the psychological effects of being a POW, or the like. Since he complained about how boring those were, you just had to meet in the (sort of) middle with a Tarantino or a Rodriguez. He would be amused by the over-the-top violence and gore, and if you were lucky there was some kind of deeper meaning. Those were the only movies you could ever agree on.

You guess he's kind of a simple man in that respect, a simple man who likes big guns and explosions. After some deliberation, he selects Ong Bak; which surprises you a little because he tends not to prefer martial arts movies so much. 

However, you've already watched Dredd and the remake of Hunt for Red October; Reservoir Dogs is the only Tarantino currently available and you've definitely seen that more than once; and you might actually protest if he put on fucking Top Gun again.

He knows you'll kind of just watch whatever he picks. It's not like you complain about much.

You decide pretty quickly that although not the trashiest, this is not a good movie. You start playing Candy Crush on your phone and mostly just watch it while you're waiting for more lives. Reiner's really warm next to you - maybe it's his size, but he's basically a human space heater. Conversely, maybe it's your height; but your extremities always get ice cold. When you run out of lives yet again, you stick your freezing hands up his t-shirt. 

He hisses at you, flinching away. "Jesus christ, man. Get those away from me!" He chuckles, fighting you in a way that's nowhere near serious and tells you he doesn't actually mind warming your hands up. You shove one arm around to his other side and press your hands against what he still calls his 'love handles' despite the fact that there's no longer an ounce of fat on his body and hasn't been since he hit puberty.

As you assumed, he just kind of lets you do it, relaxing back into the couch. 

You wait a good half hour to disentangle yourself so that you're sure you'll have at least one more life. When the credits roll, he changes the movie to The Italian Job, which you decide pretty fast is at least a little more entertaining. Somewhere around the midpoint of the movie you notice Reiner's breathing start to deepen, which means he's falling asleep; though he'd probably deny it if you asked. He slowly starts relaxing more and more of his weight against your shoulder, and by the climactic scene he's totally passed out.

When you turn your head, you end up with your nose in his hair. This is admittedly more the fault of your not inconsiderable nose than his short hair, but it's a little unexpected nonetheless. 

He smells like Axe, which is not a surprise bearing in mind all the Axe products in your bathroom.

You feel strange. He looks uncharacteristically sweet when he sleeps, and there's a vulnerability there that's even more uncommon to him. You lick your lips, feeling color flood to your face before you even know why.

You want to kiss him.

It takes a moment for that realization to sink in, but when it does it is with a sense of horror that escalates quickly to panic. Your heart is beating in your throat and you have to force yourself to breathe. Fuck. Reiner is usually there to deal with you when you have an anxiety attack, but right now the thought of waking him up only freaks you out more. You squeeze your eyes shut and force yourself to swallow past the lump on your throat, trying to push away the thoughts of - oh my god - _kissing your best friend._

An uncontrollable shudder wracks your body, and you clap a hand over your mouth to try and stop yourself from hyperventilating. Okay. You can do this.

"You okay?" His voice is foggy with sleep, but his eyes are narrowing at you in concern.

Fuuuck.

"Who the fuck was it?" He said sotto voice, and he pushed himself up; suddenly fully awake. You just shake your head at him, and he immediately wraps his arms around you in a bear hug. 

It's impossible not to calm down with him squeezing you like that. As you relax you can feel the tension still in his body, and you choke out words at him. "Wasn't anyone." You wheeze, clutching at his shirt.

Given your penchant for working yourself up, he relaxes immediately. A small smile tugs at his lips as he looks down at you. "Can't leave you alone for a second, can I?" 

Your heart pounds in your throat again and you start to feel lightheaded. You need to cool down. You need to go. 

"… I should go to bed." Your voice rasps in your throat.

"Sure you're okay?" As you scramble to get up, his hand lingers on you; as though he doesn't want to let you go. You nod quickly. You just need to clear your head. 

Your hands are shaking. You close your door a little too fast, falling back against it and trying to get your breath back, trying to make your knees support your weight. 

You slide down to the base of the door, hands on your forehead, blinking away sweat. You let your head sink forwards until it's almost between your knees - it's not hard with legs as long as yours are.

For a while, you just stay in your ball. Your phone goes off, and you paw for it half-instinctively.

Hot Stud: u sure u're ok?

Stop worrying. Oh god, stop worrying. Just for once. Please.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bertholdt you poor sweet babychild


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aka ITS HAPPENING

It is literally impossible to avoid Reiner. This is something you never noticed before because you've never tried.

You try hiding in your room, and almost immediately kick yourself because you have no idea why you expected that to work. It doesn't take long at all for him to come bother you.

"Hey. You should feed me unless you want macaroni and cheese." He says with his ever-present smirk, leaning on your doorframe. 

"Uh, yeah," is your quick reply. You're nervous, and you know he can tell, but he's pretending nothing's wrong. You stumble out of bed, flushing a little when your leg gets caught on your computer cord.

"Graceful as a gazelle." Reiner snorts as you brush past him, and you elbow him in the side. He doesn't even pretend that it hurt.

"More like a giraffe." You mumble, cheeks still pink. Granted, as much of a shit as Reiner is, he never actually makes cracks about your height. That probably means he's a good friend.

He follows you out to the kitchen, and you fumble around trying to think clearly enough to figure out something to make. You force yourself to think about literally anything but your best friend and the apparent crush you have on him. Anything.

You almost wish you had someone to talk to about this disaster, and almost laugh out loud at the thought of Annie. As if you'd ever confide anything in her. However, talking about the problem would make it real. You can't help but think if you keep it to yourself it'll just go away.

As you lean over the pot on the stove, you stiffen as you feel a palm against your back. Fuck, has Reiner always been this affectionate? Again, he doesn't mention it; but you know he must notice. Usually you're pretty relaxed when touches you - 

You must be blind and stupid. You relax when he touches you and you only just realized that you have some kind of thing for him? God. God you have it bad, don't you. 

Reiner pokes you in the cheek, clicking his tongue. You're beet red now. "Careful, I think you're steaming yourself."

You choke at him and elbow him in the stomach.

If you don't get your shit together, you don't know what you'll do. You have less than no experience with being attracted to someone, and now you're only too conscious of weird feelings you have no clue how you didn't notice before.

Maybe you could write off all that squirming in your stomach because you were so often nervous an uncomfortable. Maybe that should be your excuse.

You almost wish you could talk to Annie about this.

She'd just use it to blackmail you, more likely than not. You guess you consider yourself sort of friends with Armin, however, even you aren't socially handicapped enough to think asking him for advice on such matters is a good idea.

Do you even know anyone else?

…

 

Later, when you find yourself sitting in front of your laptop and staring at your instant messenger, you're really second-guessing yourself. However, you remind yourself that Reiner has you flustered and sputtering.

You can't live like that. You might be a little dense in some ways - and fully able to admit that - but you also have a logical mind, and you know that you can't. Even you never could've guessed how wound up you'd get with no time to calm down even at home.

bertholdt1230: Are you there, Christa?  
chrissygirly: oh wow hi!!   
bertholdt1230: Can I ask you for advice?  
chrissygirly: yeah sure! course hun~  
chrissygirly: usually the other way round lol

Oh my god, you can't believe you're doing this. You can't back out now unless you come up with a very good alternate question, and your mind is completely blank of things you might want to ask Christa.

bertholdt1230: How did you get together with Ymir?  
chrissygirly: welllll thats not advice thats a story *u*  
chrissygirly: buuuuut we flirted a lot then finally i couldn't stand it so i asked if she was into me hehehehe  
chrissygirly: then she asked me to be her gf!! n___n  
chrissygirly: why???  
chrissygirly: OMG u asking someone out?   
bertholdt1230: No.  
chrissygirly: ._.  
bertholdt1230: What would you have done if she said no?  
chrissygirly: ffs bert if you want to ask me something just ask it T-T   
chrissygirly: ymir says  
chrissygirly: 'tell him to stop being cagey as fuck'

You feel your insides turn to ice at the same time as your face burns red. God. Oh no. You have to hide your face in the blankets and breathe deeply for a few minutes before you have the strength to actually say anything.

bertholdt1230: why is Ymir reading this??  
bertholdt1230: Okay i'll tell you but promise you won't tell her.

You type out the words almost before you can think about them. Reading over your messages again, you feel stupid and childish. It was instinctive. You knew Ymir would tell Reiner. Or laugh. Or both at the same time. You put your face in your hands, not wanting to look at the screen anymore.

chrissygirly: omg ok silly if u want uvu  
chrissygirly: i turned around she cant see anymore!!

Staring at the screen, you let your hands hover over the keyboard as you sweat about how the hell you're going to put this. 

You do not think there is a good way to put this.

bertholdt1230: I have feelings for Reiner. What do I do?

As you see the typing icon for her reply appear, you feel nauseous. You suddenly wish you could just take it back. The mere seconds she takes to type a reply might as well be a hundred years.

chrissygirly: omgoMGOMGOMG bert!!!!!  
chrissygirly: bert i cant believe u!!! O^O  
chrissygirly: im sorry i just  
chrissygirly: .-.  
chrissygirly: x-x  
chrissygirly: just   
chrissygirly: don't worry about it ok??  
chrissygirly: i promise its not something you um need to worry about  
chrissygirly: cross my heart and hope to die!!! ^__^  
chrissygirly: like i kno u probably wont tell him but   
chrissygirly: at least dont worry OMG <3  
chrissygirly: aaand i think u should rly consider telling him uvu  
chrissygirly: omg u cutie

You slam the computer closed, face down on the bed; unable to look at it any more. What the fuck did you expect? You try to calm down, but as soon as you think about it again you end up lunging for the trash can next to your bed so you can throw up. 

After a few dry heaves, you manage to regain control. Of course, Reiner is in your room before you can even spit to clean your mouth.

"You okay?" His hand moves to your lower back, and when you hold up your shaking hand to indicate that you're done, he takes the wastebasket from you. He gives you a tissue, and when you look up at his face you see how incredibly concerned he looks. It makes you feel a little sick again.

He stays with you for a good few minutes, staying quiet. He won't stop watching you, though, and his worry only magnifies your self consciousness. You feel the buzz of the phone in his pocket against your leg, but he doesn't bother taking it out.

Talking to Christa had been so fucking stupid. You really hate people. And talking. And everything.

...

You think you might literally be going crazy.

You're worked up to the point of borderline nonfunctionality; you have constant tremors, your stomach is constantly uneasy, and you jump out of your skin at the slightest provocation.

The fact that you know Reiner is concerned about you is not helping at all.

You're almost considering telling him just to end your torment, but you know you could never get through the words.

It all leaves you utterly desperate to blow off steam. That's something that you've obviously never been good at.

You do not masturbate often. You've heard that's a little strange for a guy your age - you know Reiner does it all the time - but you honestly just don't feel the need. He's teased you about it and you've told him as much. He's also said it would probably make you loosen up if you did it more often.

You are that desperate.

In the shower, you sink your teeth into the meat of your hand to prevent you from chewing through your lip. You've always been terribly embarrassed about this whole affair; and it's happened before. You know you're bright red clear to your collarbones, but the heat of the water makes it a little less noticeable than usual.

You are going to fantasize about your best friend and this is going to be the most mortified and ashamed jerk off session any man has ever had.

Reiner would probably make a joke about catholic priests and little boys.

As you wrap your free hand around your dick, you try not to think about what you're doing. Instead, you let your mind go where it's wanted to for more than a week. You actually let yourself think about Reiner.

It probably helps that you've seen him naked and sweating. It's easy to picture, and even easier to imagine the way his warm body would feel against yours. After all, you've felt that many times. You know what the weight of him feels like, you know what his rough, heavy hands feel like, and you know _exactly_ how it feels when he does that quiet chuckle in your ear. As soon as you think of those innocent things with a sexual lean, it's shocking how hot you get.

Fuck.

Any amount of calm that you feel is far overshadowed by shame and disgust.

...

"Hey." 

You jump a little, but of course it's only Reiner; leaning against your door frame. He looks uncharacteristically serious, his mouth a thin line instead of the usual easy smirk. Your stomach immediately clenches - somehow, you're sure he's going to grill you about how you've been acting lately.

Even though Reiner's 'grilling' is only gentle questioning, he's never failed to get whatever you're hiding out of you. You know that a lot of it is that you can't stand up for yourself; you can admit that. However, you like to think that at least some of it that Reiner is Reiner.

"I wanna talk to you about something.That cool?" 

Fuck.

It will be as long as you don't throw up or something again. You nod quickly at him, just trying to keep yourself from freaking out.

Instead of sitting next to you on the bed, or even more likely, flopping on top of you, he sits on the floor and rests his arm on the bed and his chin on his arm. It puts him at a level with you lying on the bed, and he's definitely vying for eye contact. You just stare at the comforter. 

When he speaks, his voice is strong and sure. You know there's no chance in hell he's joking. 

"I love you."

Your shock causes you to look up at him, and you would swear your heart stops. Even you can see the honesty in his eyes, and before you even have time to take it in, before your heart can even start beating again, his hand has snaked around the back of your head and he's dragging you in.

You wouldn't have fought it even if you had the time to react.

His mouth is very warm against your mouth. It takes you a considerable moment to remember that you're supposed to close your eyes, so you let them flutter shut and just,

Trust him.

In that moment, it's all very clear to you.

Yet again, you can't believe your stupidity. You suddenly realize why Christa was laughing at you - you might even laugh if you weren't so busy kicking yourself. 

"So stop giving yourself an ulcer over it, okay?" He mutters, lips brushing over yours, breath hot. You can feel color rising in your face.

"H-how. How did you," you manage to gasp out, not wanting to pull away.

He does that low little chuckle, and it sends a tingle down your spine. "Christa texted me immediately. Said 'go get em, tiger'. To be fair, I guess you only specified not to tell Ymir."

You go from light flush to bright red in an instant. "Oh."

"She told you not to worry." He starts to stand, and you find yourself unconsciously leaning up to follow him. "… I told myself to wait, give you a chance to say something first."

You give a very weak little snicker. 

"… yeah." He agrees, getting on the bed with you. His arm falls easily over your waist. You have only a moment to think that it feels very natural there before he's swooping down to claim your lips again; softer and a little less chaste. You're a little shocked at how eagerly you try to copy his movements. He grabs your chin and won't let you move away, even when you accidentally drool on him - which you're pretty sure isn't supposed to happen.

"Gotta make up for how long you made me wait." You realize with a thrill that you can feel his smile. "You were my queer awakening, by the way. Congrats."

You remember how, recently, he said he already had someone at home. "Why'd you wait?" His hand is big and rough and warm on the side of your neck, Although you don't stammer, your words are hardly more than a whisper. You fail to see how you're worth it.

He shrugs. "No point shopping around when I knew what I wanted."

Your shift from friends to more is that instantaneous. Maybe you shouldn't be surprised by that. The new apparent status changes very little except create a quiet, understanding calm between the two of you.

Reiner spends the next hour or so companionably teaching you how to kiss by showing you over and over. Evidently, he has done that much before. Once you're a red-faced mess, he seems perfectly okay to lean against your headboard and mess with his phone; you pulled against him. 

It's not until you open Facebook that you realize what he was doing.

Reiner Braun posted at 2pm  
i did it i kissed the boy  
Ymir YourQueen commented  
so FUCKING proud of you  
Jean BetterThanEren Kirschstein commented  
ohhh my good it finally happened  
Christa Historia Reiss commented  
YEEeAH WOOOOO \ ^o^ /  
Reiner Braun commented  
you can take credit for this one you little goddess  
Christa Historia Reiss commented   
^__^  
Ymir YourQueen commented  
that's why i like you man, you know she's a goddess  
Connie Springer commented  
we were all rooting for you man XD  
Marco Bodt commented  
Congratulations! :)  
Eren BetterThanJean Jaeger commented  
ABOUT TIME   
Mikasa Ackerman-Jaeger commented  
^^^  
Sasha Braus commented  
oooooo pics or it didn't haaaaappen   
Christa Historia Reiss commented  
:O seconded!!! pics of boyfriends pls~  
Reiner Braun commented  
idk if i can swing that yet ladies  
Armin Arlert commented  
Happy for you!!

Reiner Braun is now in a relationship with Bertholdt Fubar.  
Annie Leonhardt commented  
this is it. the apocalypse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy bday bertholdt <3


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> aka the big date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gomen this took so long i got really stuck on the date scene

You prevent yourself from thinking about it. You're good at avoiding things - in fact, other than running; it's one of the only things you're genuinely good at. Honestly, you're not even really that great at running.

You're amazing at avoiding stuff. 

While you're doing homework, he comes up behind you. In itself that's not even remotely abnormal, but you jump when his lips press to the back of your neck. Your face burns, and you suck in a breath. The low, mischievous chuckle he gives against your skin makes your stomach tighten.

You forgot that you were going to have to deal with how much your best friend turns you on.

"Sorry for startling you." You can tell he's not sorry at all. "You okay?" 

"Yeah," you choke out, staring unseeingly down at the math problems in front of you. 

"Check Facebook." 

"Mmmn." Last time you were online, everyone was talking about you and it made your stomach squirm.

"Check it," he bumps his face against your red cheek in a quick kiss.

It's one of those oh my god, I have a boyfriend moments that makes panic tighten your throat. It doesn't occur to you that his mouth making actual contact with your skin was the only tiny step that was missing from how he would've acted before.

His insistence on your checking Facebook makes you feel a little paranoid; in fact, so much so that you still can't concentrate.

Okay, maybe the spots he touched are tingling too. It doesn't help.

Going to get your laptop would make you feel like you were giving up too much, so instead you pull it up on your phone. The number of alerts you have is astronomical considering that it's you, and that does not calm your nerves at all.

Ymir YourQueen  
heeeey **bertie** you're coming to the party this week right?? someone has to keep your boyfriend in line.

Your cheeks flame red. You can't help it - you absolutely fucking hate being called Bertie, and she knows that. However, that's only half of it. Your _boyfriend_. Oh my god.

Reiner Braun commented  
you should probably not expect him to answer you if you call him bertie you tool  
Ymir YourQueen commented  
yeah well you're no fun >:(  
Reiner Braun commented  
its not like he ever says anything on facebook   
Christa Historia Reiss commented  
BERT!!! omg yes you should come~ uvu   
Christa Historia Reiss commented   
it's at jeans place ^o^

You cover your face, glad that Reiner isn't in the room to tease you about getting all flushed over people talking about you. You like to think that's sort of normal. You're really not much to talk about. Oh my god you have more alerts.

Christa Historia Reiss  
 **bertholdt** has that butthead taken u out on a date yet??? like a real one -_-  
Christa Historia Reiss commented  
if he hasnt i am going to KICK HIM!!  
Reiner Braun commented  
hes pretty hard to get out of the house  
Christa Historia Reiss commented  
but did you ASK him jeez o.o  
Reiner Braun commented  
lol no  
Christa Historia Reiss commented  
bastard!!!! oAo  
Ymir YourQueen commented  
wow man you are so fucking ~romantic~  
Reiner Braun commented  
have you guys even met bert just wondering  
Ymir YourQueen commented  
does it count if he never talks? because if not NO  
Reiner Braun commented   
im not going to force him to have a social life  
Ymir YourQueen commented   
WHY NOT  
Reiner Braun commented  
idk im not cruel?

Needless to say, your blush does not diminish and the uncomfortable squirming in your stomach is back. The worst part is that you are not even at the end of your alerts and you're pretty sure they'll only get worse. You wrap an arm around yourself and try to shrink into the chair.

Marco Bodt  
 **Reiner** , **Bertholdt** I have to vote double date in celebration of us not being 'The Gays' any more!  
Ymir YourQueen commented  
what are we???  
Jean BetterThanEren Kirschstein commented  
Lesbians duh  
Marco Bodt commented   
Chopped liver obviously. lol!   
Ymir YourQueen commented  
can't be chopped liver because i don't put meat in my mouth  >:)  
Jean BetterThanEren Kirschstein commented  
OKAY WOW NO  
Marco Bodt commented   
I do. ;)  
Jean BetterThanEren Kirschstein commented  
MARCO

You lean on the table, covering your burning face with your hands. Are you even gay? You've never thought about it and honestly really don't want to right now. Nor do you want to think about going on dates with your best friend. Didn't gay couples get dirty looks on dates? You feel a little sick.

Oh my god. Gay couple. 

"Hey, Bertholdt. So you wanna go on a date with me?" Reiner calls from probably his room. Or the bathroom because he's literally shameless.

You're about to fly into a full-fledged panic over all of these sexual implications and what they mean to you personally now that you're apparently gay with your best friend (oh my god); but him talking distracts you. You pick up your phone with shaking hands.

Bertholdt Fubar  
Can everyone please just stop, thank you.

You somehow manage to pull your legs up on the chair so you can wrap your arms around them. It's a miracle, because it's only a small dining chair; but you've had a hell of a lot of practice at trying to make yourself small.

"Bert? Oh, fuck." Right. You never answered Reiner, and now he's come to see why and you're a dumb fucking mess.

When he touches your shoulder you instantly try to shrug away. "D-don't touch me," you choke out; almost instinctively. Your grip on the edge that you're about to fall over into panic is incredibly tenuous. You can feel the lump rising in your throat and you're pretty sure if he touches you again you're going to punch him in the face and you won't even have any choice in the matter.

It's happened before. He's a shit disturber and you don't like to be startled.

He wraps his arms around your torso, actually managing to work one of them between your drawn-up legs and your belly to achieve it. 

You don't lash out at him.

He drags you out of the chair with very little effort despite your size, and suddenly you're in his lap on the floor. He rearranges his arms to clasp his hands on the other side of your waist, effectively locking you in. Logically, you should panic; but instead you immediately start calming down. His thick arms are heavy on your waist, and there's something dumbly comforting about how big and warm and solid he is. Resting your head on his shoulder is habit earned through the past twelve years of him comforting you. 

Once again you manage to forget that anything has changed. Everything is familiar and easy.

"People are talking about you because they like you, you know," he says in a low, quiet voice.

You know he's trying to help but you want to laugh. Of course he's never going to understand, and you can't expect him to - he lives to be the centre of attention. He loves being surrounded by people. Thinking about others so much as paying you undue thought is enough to make your skin crawl.

You settle for not saying anything.

He moves to kiss you, and shockingly, you don't stiffen. That in itself almost makes you panic until you realize that you feel like you did that first night - trusting and calm. You're not worrying about him being your boyfriend or the fact that anything has changed. It's just Reiner, the only person who can make you feel comfortable in your own skin.

"Stop overthinking shit," he mumbles against your lips, and you're a little embarrassed at how well he read you. His mouth moves against yours wetly, just a little insistently, and you tremble against him for an entirely different reason.

His soft kisses shift across your hot cheek, down your jaw; and a weird little noise comes out of you. "Never… had a boyfriend." You have no clue why you bother saying it, because he obviously fucking knows.

He does that ridiculously hot chuckle and it sends a little thrill through you. "We're not anything. We're just us. We always have been."

"… yeah." All you can do is agree, because you know he's right. You remember when you were seven and a real crybaby; how he held you in his pudgy child's arms and wiped the snot off of your face. How he held your cheeks and told you that what other people say didn't matter, how he smiled at you and told you that it was just the two of you.

That he'd protect you.

You find yourself kissing him again; your face burning not because you're embarrassed but because you can't believe that you just actually initiated that. Reiner gives a surprised little "Mmn!" against your mouth - though he sounds so pleased that another little jolt shoots through you.

Whatever just happened, you want more of it.

"Go on a date with me," he whispers against your mouth, his voice deeper than usual. Then his lips are on your neck and ooh…

Your blush flares when you realize that little whimpering noise just came out of your mouth. Oh my god.

Reiner breaks away so that he can look at you, and his eyes are strangely glassy; his pupils blown out huge. "Holy shit. You keep that up, and I'm not going to be able to keep my hands off of you." 

You should probably feel a lot more panicky about that then you do, but you honestly just want him to go back to kissing your neck again. "Yeah. I'll. Go on a date with you." You manage to breathe out, tipping your head back as he leans in to press his lips gently against your adam's apple. Ohhh god oh fuck oh shit…

"Sorry." He clears his throat awkwardly as he pulls back. "I'll stop before I. Work you up too much." His eyes are still glassy but he gives you an awkward smile. You kind of want to tell him not to stop; to let him mess around with your neck more. It's something you definitely haven't done before; but it feels good and the fact that it's him makes it okay.

His arms are wrapped tight around you, keeping you safe; and again you find yourself leaning after him when he moves away, almost like you're attached by a string and have to keep a certain distance. "Do you think I could go on a date with anyone else?" your voice is small, but you try to force a laugh. It's more of a choked squeak than anything. "I'd. Have to bring you, wouldn't I?" 

"Guess you won't need a chaperone." He smirks, most of his usual smugness back. 

You can't go anywhere without him. You know he knows it, but you also know he'd never throw it back in your face. 

"Where do you want to go?"

Honestly, it takes you a minute to even realize you're supposed to answer. When you do, a cold sweat immediately breaks out on the back of your neck. Oh my god, you have no idea. Where do people go on dates? You've only seen a handful of romantic movies; all of them with Christa, and all of them involving things you know are patently ridiculous. In real life people don't go galavanting around Paris together, especially if they're college students. They don't go to country clubs, and you are not going to a bar. The kind of fancy restaurants featured in those movies always seemed so stressful that your stomach honestly knots even thinking about it - it seems like they expect so much of you there.

Why is he asking you to make a decision?

"I don't care," you manage. "As long as you're coming I don't care if we go to Denny's."

"Okay."

You're kind of hoping he's going to start doing that thing to your neck again, but it seems he isn't. Later, you follow him to bed with a blush on your face; hardly believing your own daring, and when he realizes what you're doing his face splits in a huge grin. You have to tell yourself very firmly that there's nothing to be nervous about when he drapes a heavy arm over your waist. 

To your surprise, there isn't. Actually, with his breath against your back, you sleep better than you have for a very long time.

…

bodt_94: Hey Bert, are you okay??  
bodt_94: Um, I just wanted to check. I know you're not used to attention and I get that. But not everybody does! Extroverts don't really understand how introverts work :/  
bodt_94: People are just trying to be supportive. They don't get why it's making you uncomfortable, because almost everyone in our group of friends is really extroverted…  
bodt_94: To be honest I feel sorry for you because Reiner is the worst of them. He's such a frat boy. But that's not the point.   
bodt_94: The point is, you're not weird or messed up for wanting to be left alone. I wanted you to know that, because sometimes Jean acts like I am. There's a misconception that people who want to do nothing but party and chat on the phone and socialize all the time are the only ones who are normal. That's not really true. I might be a pretty nice guy and I like chatting with my friends all day and stuff, but once I get home I just want to read a book or something and be quiet and if I don't get that I can be surprisingly nasty…  
bodt_94: So don't feel like you have to go to the parties or anything, okay? People want to see you, but they don't want you to be miserable. Don't let any of the drunk idiots pressure you into stuff.  
bodt_94: If you end up going to this next one, let me know and I'll come too, okay? I haven't seen you in a while and besides, someone has to make sure Jean at least drinks enough water that he doesn't end up puking later. Sigh.  
bodt_94: I'm sorry for contributing to the pressure on you. I didn't realize there was so much or I would've held off :C  
bodt_94: Okay, I'll leave you alone now. You don't have to reply, but please text me when you feel up to it!   
bodt_94: Oops, one more thing. Make sure you tell Reiner if you want some personal space; because he might not know, but he definitely doesn't want to hurt you. I know sometimes I just really need Jean to leave me alone.  
bodt_94: Okay bye!!

You read the messages over twice, before letting your phone drop. It's really easy to get comfortable again, so comfortable that you could go right back to sleep. The weight of Reiner's arm is really nice, and your stomach clenches as you contemplate edging closer. You contemplate it for a really long time, actually, starting to sweat a little under the sheet.

"Who ya talkin' to?" Reiner mumbles, and you suck in a surprised breath because you didn't realize he was awake. He barely is, and his grip on you tightens sleepily as he squirms a bit closer himself. His chest is kind of-sort of touching your back, and that's pretty weird but you make yourself get used to it. It's also not that weird. It's just Reiner, literally radiating heat from being bundled up in blankets. Not that he isn't hot all the time.

Your face flushes almost instinctively. Oh god, not like that!

He tiredly shifts again, and you feel the flex of his pecs against you, just below your shoulder blades.

Maybe also like that.

He doesn't so much kiss your shoulder as press his nose and mouth against it and stay there, touching you kind of a lot in a way that you're pretty okay with when you don't try to overthink it. 

Oh, he asked you something.

"Marco."

"Bothering you?"

"No."

"Mmmkay."

His breathing starts to deepen again, and you can feel him smiling against your skin. You make yourself concentrate on the warm, safe feeling in your chest; not think about it too much. 

You relax back against him, and let yourself sleep.

…

He takes you to Denny's.

Even after he tells you that's where you're going, you kind of don't believe it until you're there. You weren't under the impression that anyone went to Denny's willingly. It's almost midnight, and there's not that many cars in the parking lot - in fact, you think they must certainly be closed until you see the lights on and people moving around inside. 

Then you realize Denny's is 24 hours and feel very, very stupid. Anyone else would've known that, no doubt. You follow Reiner out of his stupid crappy truck - he's had the thing since grade ten, and it's amazing it still runs - and suddenly decide you're really, really glad he doesn't do something like try to hold your hand. Of course he doesn't. He knows you more than well enough to know that would embarrass you.

Not that you don't want to hold his hand. That actually sounds pretty nice. Maybe you could… possibly summon up the courage to do it on the dark car ride home. You wouldn't have to see your hand moving slowly towards his and have time to chicken out about it, and no one would be able to give you dirty looks.

Yeah, you might totally do that.

You remember how much you hate restaurants as soon as you step in the door and there's a waitress and she asks you, "For two?"

Reiner nods and you just kind of cower behind him, conscious of how your shoulders are hunched like they always are when you're out in public. You wish you weren't taller than him. You trail after him when the waitress leads the two of you to a booth, and immediately slide in as close to the wall as you can. At least you feel a lot less…. exposed, here. When you look at Reiner, he's smiling at you and you can feel his foot nudge yours under the table.

Oh my god you're actually on a date right now. A real date.

"… stop overthinking shit," he says, and he sounds mildly amused. There's a smile tugging at his lips, like there always is, and you find that you can't look away.

He's really attractive. 

That realization makes you flush predictably, and he nudges your foot with his again. He reaches across the table and rests his hand on top of yours, stroking the pad of his thumb across it.

Your stomach tightens in a way that tells you that for some reason, that's threatening to turn you on. You go redder.

"I'll order for you," he says quietly, and immediately your shoulders relax.

You kind of understand why he decided to take you out for breakfast at midnight - the restaurant is pretty quiet, and during the day you know it'd be packed. Even that thought makes you nervous. Now there's a few other people, in pairs or alone on their laptops, but there's not really any noise and you don't feel intimidated.

You're at Denny's, but somehow he thought this through.

Sitting there eating pancakes until one in the morning wasn't such a bad idea, actually. You manage to relax, huddled in the corner of the booth; and he teases you like he would if you were at home and you kick him in the shins and don't mean it. 

You almost start freaking out again when it comes time to pay the bill, because you have absolutely no idea what the etiquette surrounding that is or even how to bring it up; but he deals with it so you don't have to talk to anyone and you're eternally grateful. You're a little less terrified by the time you trail back out after him to the truck.

The passenger door handle sticks like hell, it has for the past two years and it doesn't even surprise you any more. Half the time it only deigns to open from the inside. In fact, when you finally manage to wrench it open it's to the sight of Reiner leaning over about to help you. You stare at each other awkwardly for a moment before you manage a weak laugh and climb up onto the seat. One benefit of being tall is that you've never had a problem getting in this shitty truck.

You stretch and yank the door closed, and when you turn back to Reiner he's just kind of sitting there looking at you. It's dark, and he hasn't started the truck, and you can see his eyes shining as he reaches over and takes you ever so gently by the chin.

Oh.

His mouth moves against yours, in a way that you think is considered pretty chaste; though it still makes your ears flame. However, it's nothing compared to how red you go when he moves his other hand to rest on your thigh. You have no idea what to do with the hands you're clenching nervously in your lap, but when he leans in more and his tongue slides out and across your lower lip, one instinctively goes out to rest nervously on the back of his neck.

"Relax," The word is warm and quiet against your lips, and you shiver a little in response. His hand moves from your chin to your waist, gently nudging you closer until both of you are awkwardly leaning over the stick shift so you can…

Kind of make out.

Your face is hot when he pulls away, and it would be a lie if you said you weren't well on your way to getting hard. You feel more than a little stupid about that, because you're not thirteen any more and it's just a kiss. From what porn you've seen it seems like he should be at least touching you before you get worked up.

Finally he starts the truck, and he has to remove his hand from your thigh to throw it into gear. You would be sad about that, but you barely have time because he replaces it as soon as he pulls out of the parking lot.

In an abnormal rush of boldness, you lean over until the centre console digs into your side and press a hesitant kiss to his neck. You liked it when he did it, and it seems he must too because he sucks in a sharp breath.

You sit back up straight very quickly.

Then your phone buzzes, and it's such a welcome focus for your attention that you don't bother to think about who it could be until you unlock it to look.

Christa Renz: how did it go???   
omg tell me everything ^-^  
Me: Good?   
Christa Renz: i didnt interrupt anything  
did i? ^.~  
Me: No, we're just headed home.  
Christa Renz : where did he take you???  
Me: Denny's.  
Christa Renz: are yOU KIDDING ME  
SDFgfjdkjgdfFDGDFCGR

You set your phone aside, take a deep breath, and place your hand on top of Reiner's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes reiner does drive stick 
> 
> fight me


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> aka how do you even friends

You hear Reiner yell something from the shower. You have no idea why he thinks you can hear him, though you know you're going to have to go in the bathroom to actually hear him and you're not happy with that. You go down the hallway from the kitchen and push open the door, going red for a completely different reason than steam hitting you in the face.

Not that you can see anything, but still. 

"What was that?"

"I said, can you check the directions to Jean's place?" he says loudly over the sound of the shower. "They're on my phone. I always get lost going there."

"Okay," you continue to refuse to step in the door, hand on the knob. Your hair's still damp from your own shower. You have no idea where on his phone they would be, but okay.

"My phone's on the table, he texted me the street name earlier. And text him back and tell him within the hour, okay?"

You would really rather not have to text Jean, but you steel yourself for it. "Yeah, okay…" you back out of the bathroom and close the door, even though he'd never had it properly closed in the first place.

His phone's actually on the counter, not the table, but his memory has never been the best so you're not that surprised. Fortunately, he also has an iPhone; so you have no trouble finding and opening up his conversations. 'Horseface' is at the top of the list, and you almost have to resist rolling your eyes at his childish habit of giving people stupid nicknames in his phone - all except you, you've just been 'Bert' since he's even had one.

me: yo give me the address again  
horseface: srsly you've been here like five times.  
me: ur neighborhood sucks  
horseface: you fucking suck  
horseface: it's 91 empire ave. unit 1217

You grit your teeth, telling yourself it's just Marco's boyfriend. Unfortunately, that doesn't help much - you know Jean's a total asshole. 

me: We will be there within the hour.  
horseface: wow hi bert hahaha

You flush deeply, not sure why you're embarrassed; but definitely sure that you are. Exiting out of the conversation quickly, you're surprised to see the second most recent text was from Annie. You're more than a little surprised; seeing as she usually goes out of her way not to talk to Reiner.

It would definitely be snooping if you checked, wouldn't it? Why was the last received message 'count on it'? Maybe she'd told him what she was doing on winter break. You're overwhelmed with curiosity. Despite flushing darkly with guilt, you open up the conversation and scroll up a little.

reiner no just put my actual name: i see it finally happened.  
me: wow cant slip a thing past you can i  
reiner no just put my actual name: you know, i almost thought  
i wasn't going to live to see the day.  
me: honestly me neither  
reiner no just put my actual name: is he having a big gay crisis?  
me: hes doing pretty good actually  
me: i mean he fucking panics at everything  
reiner no just put my actual name: normal then.

Oh my god they're talking about you. You slump forwards to rest your chin on the table, face burning even more. 

reiner no just put my actual name: remember your big gay crisis?  
me: can we please not  
reiner no just put my actual name: you said please.  
reiner no just put my actual name: so yes. we can not. moving on.  
me: can we move on to why youre lying about  
where you are this winter break  
reiner no just put my actual name: no.  
me: aw come onnnn  
reiner no just put my actual name: no.  
reiner no just put my actual name: moving on.  
reiner no just put my actual name: don't think that just because you're  
his knight in shining armour that you won't be held accountable.  
me: lol whut  
reiner no just put my actual name: if you fuck something up, i mean.  
reiner no just put my actual name: i know where you live.  
me: omg annie are you actually doing this  
reiner no just put my actual name: well, someone has to look after him.  
me: ive got that down  
reiner no just put my actual name: what if he needs saving from you you  
fucking shithead.  
me: hahahaha  
reiner no just put my actual name: oh i'm serious, reiner.  
reiner no just put my actual name: you know you don't want to cross me.  
reiner no just put my actual name: so look after him.  
reiner no just put my actual name: so i don't have to.  
reiner no just put my actual name: got it?  
me: your one scary girl you know that  
reiner no just put my actual name: count on it. 

You have no idea whether you should feel more embarrassed or surprised. You can't believe that Annie actually cares that much about you, though you also can't imagine any ulterior motive for her threatening Reiner like that. Maybe she just wanted an excuse to threaten him? The idea of Reiner doing anything to hurt you hardly seems credible by itself…

You're suddenly distracted from that line of thought by the realization that literally everyone is talking about you and your relationship and that makes you feel a little sick. 

Really sick actually.

You force yourself to swallow, trying not to think about the fact that _oh my god there might be people talking about you right now_. Right, you have to tell Reiner the street name. You look back at the phone in your hand, trying to ignore the fact that it's shaking slightly now, and exit out of the conversation so you can close messaging because you're very anal about things like that.

That's when you notice that the third conversation down is 'prince charming'. The last text looks an awful lot like the one you sent him yesterday asking if he had change for laundry.

Oh my god.

That is your text.

Just to make sure, you scroll through his old conversations. 'Bert' is not in there anywhere. 

Oh my _god_.

You put your head down on the table and wrap your arms around it. You can feel heat radiating from your cheeks. Oh my god, oh my god…

It's a snap decision, and very much something you'd normally refrain from doing, but before you know it you're snatching up the phone and re-opening Annie's conversation. You're still blushing furiously.

me: Annie, he changed my name in his phone to prince charming.

You stare at the message, ashamed regret stirring within you as you process what you actually just did. Your thumb hovers over the message, hand trembling. You're going to delete it, you're definitely going to delete it and no one will ever know and…

reiner no just put my actual name: HAHAHAHA OH MY FUCKING GOD  
reiner no just put my actual name: bertholdt screenshot it. please screenshot it. i need it.  
reiner no just put my actual name: i have no idea where you just found the balls to give me ammo against him but fuck please keep them for like two more seconds and screenshot it for me. PLEASE.

Numbly, you exit Annie's conversation and open yours; screenshot, then go through the motions of sending. Your face is still burning and you have no idea why you're listening to her. She's said before you just really need someone to tell you what to do. Maybe she's right.

reiner no just put my actual name: fuck i love you so much right now.

What the fuck are you doing.

…

"Why don't you put on jeans?" 

You actually give him a look, even though you're already getting anxious about going out tonight. It's probably been years since he's seen you in jeans. "I don't really wear them," you mutter as you pull a thermal over your thin v-neck. You know he's unobservant and forgetful, but _really_?

"You look good in them, though," he arches an eyebrow at you. He's just dressed like he always is, so you're not sure why he's fussing at you. You can see his nipples through his tight tank top. Aren't those supposed to be undershirts? 

"They make my legs look longer."

"You have nice legs." He says it with the dumb honesty you've come to expect of him over the years, so you know he means what he's saying. You feel yourself flush - how the hell does he see your spindly insect legs as a positive? "No, seriously. Go put jeans on, okay?"

You don't want to argue; and if Reiner really wants it then you guess that''s okay with you. Shuffling back to your room, you dig in the back of your closet where the stuff you never wear is still hanging as you assumed it would be. 

You haven't grown significantly since your last growth spurt at the beginning of grade eleven, and if anything your hips have only gotten narrower. Therefore, it's no surprise to you that squeezing back into these pants is so easy.

It'd been shockingly easy to forget how restrictive denim was. The button digs into your narrow stomach, and you're really unsure how people can wear these all the time. A quick glance in the mirror reminds you exactly why these were in the back of your closet, and you can only hope that once he sees you in them again Reiner will get it too.

Your phone vibrates, and it's a good thing it did because it reminds you to grab it out of the pants you were just wearing.

Marco: Are you still coming? C: I know Reiner's always late, but Sasha and Eren and associates are already here.  
Marco: Of course they are right? Ugh Eren pre drank…  
Me: I am, but I don't know why. I apologize, I think Reiner's waiting for me.

Comparative to with track pants, it's a real pain to get your phone in your pocket. You head back out to see Reiner texting someone as well, and your stomach clenches uncomfortably when you realize that it's probably about the fact that you're holding him up.

Before you have the chance to freak out too much, he looks up and gives you a smile that makes you break into a sweat.

"You look great," he slides his forearm around your waist; and you move closer to him without even meaning to. 

"They're waiting for us," you say softly, very conscious of the heat of his body against your side.

"Nah," his tone is uncharacteristically gentle, and your cheeks heat up again as he leans in and tilts his head to kiss your neck.

You can smell his aftershave, and it makes your ears burn with blush. His lips there make you tingle, and you're incredibly conscious of his hot breath on your skin. 

"Let's go." He slips his hand in your back pocket, and you only choke in reply. 

…

As soon as a very tired looking Marco opens the door, you can hear Eren yelling. "Hey guys," he's trying to play the host, even though it's Jean's apartment. "Reiner, can you please take over with making sure Eren and Jean don't kill each other? Thanks." You can see he's still wearing his scrub pants, and he definitely lacks the usual vibrance in his voice. You follow Reiner, who nods and follows Marco; and it isn't until he moves to grab your hand that you get really nervous.

All of your friends know. What is there to be so worried about?

Nonetheless, as he twines his big, rough fingers with yours; you feel your back break out in a cold sweat.

Jean and Eren are yelling at each other over the counter that separates the kitchen and living area, and Reiner lets go of your hand as quickly as he grabbed it with a soft cuss so that he can go sort them out. It's not fast enough, however, because Christa is beaming at you from her seat on the ancient sectional couch. You can't hide your blush, and as much as you absolutely do not want to talk to Christa right now, Marco lightly takes your elbow and that's exactly where he steers you.

Thankfully he sits between you and the girl who's practically bouncing in her excitement to, no doubt, drill you about Reiner.

"I might fall asleep on you, Bert," Marco says with the tiredest smile you've ever seen. "I'm sorry in advance."

"He just had to pull a twenty hour shift," Christa pipes up. "He was supposed to take me here with him after class, but he was asleep the whole last hour of lecture so he made me drive."

"I was a road hazard," Marco says, running a hand through his hair. You nod, because he looks it. "… and Jean hasn't given me a damn chance to change properly. I'm on my fifth cup of coffee, I'm not sure how much help he expects me to be." He sighs heavily, before flashing you another thin smile. "Sorry, I'll stop whining. I just turn into a total baby when I'm tired."

"It's okay," you say quietly. You want to say you understand, but you really have no right. Your program doesn't keep you awake for days at a time.

Christa, you assume, did have the chance to change, because she's wearing a short pink dress that she couldn't have worn to class. She's leaning her shoulder on Marco and looking at you like she's going to explode with questions. Why do girls have to be this way?

"You're wearing jeans," Marco says casually, and you immediately feel yourself go bright red. "I've never seen you do that before."

"Uh, yeah…" you manage. "I don't. Reiner wanted me to." You can literally hear Christa's little gasp of glee and it makes you want to sink through the couch and into the floor.

"You look good," Marco says in that supportive way he has. You open your mouth to say something, and he holds up a hand to quiet you. "Honestly, you do."

Christa nods, patting Marco's knee. "Sweetie, _you_ should change into your jeans."

"Yeah, you're right." He makes two faulty attempts to get up before you plant a hand on his lower back to boost him a little. "Thanks," he says before he drags his feet off to Jean's room.

"I think he needs to sleep," you say softly, because you know you're not going to be able to get away from talking to Christa. She immediately shifts over to sit next to you, placing a hand on your arm that makes you tense up and hunch in on yourself.

"He absolutely needs to sleep, yep. But he wants to look after Jean. And he said he'd be here! That kind of stuff matters to him." She pats your arm. "But anyways, you never told me about your date! How did it go?" Her eyes are practically sparkling and it's really intimidating you.

You just shrug, because what is there to tell? What the hell does she want to hear about? All you did was have dinner and hold hands on the way home in the car. However, she's still staring at you expectantly. "We just had dinner. It was nice."

The way Christa huffs tells you that was not the answer she was looking for. "Is he a good kisser?"

It's all you can do not to squeak, but you do go bright red. She still seems to expect you to answer, though, as she won't stop looking at you. "I don't really know. I haven't kissed anyone else."

She gives a sudden gasp that actually startles you, her hands going to her cheeks. "Oh my god, that's precious! Wait - I can kiss you, then you'll have something to compare to!" She's so excited she actually starts bouncing, and you're distracted enough by that to not realize what she said right away.

"What?"

"Reineeeer, can I kiss your boyfriend?" She calls across the room, and you really don't know whether you should be dying over being called his boyfriend or that Christa is apparently going to kiss you.

You hear Reiner laugh from somewhere near the kitchen. "Sure, hon."

She's on your lap before you can really process that, and you watch her dress ride up her thighs as you realize you should really be freaking out about this. "Chri-" you start to say as she pulls up your chin, but you don't get any further before she presses her full lips against yours.

She's really sticky, that's the first thing you notice. There's sticky, slimy stuff covering her mouth and you think you can go ahead and assume that's makeup, probably. She is not making any move to get your mouth open like Reiner does; in fact, she's kind of just pulling at your lips with hers. It feels like you're supposed to do something, but you have no idea what and that makes you so increasingly nervous that you just wait it out, trying to ignore that her long nails are digging into your jaw.

As soon as she releases you, you sink back into the couch as much as possible and pretend for your own sanity that you don't hear Jean and Eren's continuing 'ooohhh!'.

Christa is smiling up at you as expectantly as ever. And when you say up, you mean less up than usual because she's sitting in your lap. "How was that?"

"Soft?" you offer, your voice unnaturally high.

"You were supposed to take charge, you know," she says with a pout. and you're struggling to find an answer that isn't covering your face in embarrassment when you hear what is unmistakable as Reiner's footsteps behind you; then his warm, heavy hands are on your shoulders and it's okay now.

"You can't really expect Bertholdt to take charge of anything," he says, and the hint of amusement in his voice tells you he's already working on a beer. You're not worried about that or what he's saying, however, you're too busy being happy that he's back near you and that Christa's climbing off your lap. "He needs someone to take control for him," his hand moves to gently cup your cheek, and you feel embarrassment rising again. "Like this."

This time maybe you ask for it, because you turn just a little to look at him and he bends down and kisses you so forcefully that your head moves back a little. He is not at all soft like Christa and you might actually be forgetting to breathe but you're not sure. Where does breathing happen again?

When he lets you go you're a little dizzy and he has the world's most shit-eating smirk on his face.

"Wow, clearly I kissed the wrong boy." Christa says, chin on her hands. He puckers up and leans down to her, and she smacks him lightly on the cheek.

"I sure walked back in at a good time," Marco says, now fully dressed and just awake enough that he probably splashed water on his face. He sits back down next to you and calls, "Hey Jean, where's mine?"

Eventually, other friends arrive and there's more for Christa to focus on than harassing you. Armin joins you and Marco for a while, but before long he leaves again to join Mikasa in shadowing Eren, and you suppose you can see why. If Reiner acted like that, you'd get anxious over him too.

Marco gets you one of the red cups of beer, promising that at your size nothing will happen with one; but it might calm your nerves a little. You decide that if it does calm you down it'll be pretty worth it; and he's drinking some too so it should be okay.

It mostly just makes your face kind of warm.

By midnight, Marco's dozed off on your shoulder and although it's completely alien to have someone else's weight on you; you're not that uncomfortable and you don't have the heart to wake him up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bertholdt doesnt know how to girls


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> aka boners????

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> btw my tumblr is recrd-chaos so if you like a lot of reblogs of reibert art with screaming in the tags and shitty text posts about whatever i'm currently writing please follow

You know Reiner's probably a little too tipsy to drive; but then again, that just might be you worrying. He holds it well, and always has. You're feeling a little funny, and seeing as driving makes you unbearably anxious at the best of times you are certainly not about to offer.

"Be careful," you still say, and he waves you away with a hand before throwing the truck into gear. Something clunks, and you can't hide a wince. This thing is going to die at the most inconvenient time, you just know it. When you go to buckle up your seatbelt, his hand suddenly closes around your bicep and you nearly yelp in surprise. With one great heave, he slides you all the way across the vinyl bench seat until you nearly falls into his lap. A wave of disorientation washes over you, and when it passes, your cheeks burn at the realization you're leaning heavily on his shoulder and one of your hands is on his thigh. 

"Sit in the middle." He says with a big dumb grin on his face. You hate sitting in the middle, because the seat is slightly raised and you really don't need to feel any taller than you already do, but you nod and then kind of have trouble looking away from his face.

It isn't until he presses the gas that you remember you really need to put a seatbelt on. You fumble with it for so long that it's a little embarrassing; the stupid thing is twisted and doesn't seem to go in either of the available clip parts. When you look up again, not only are you halfway through the short drive back to your apartment building, but Reiner never put on his seatbelt at all. That might be pretty usual, but there's no way he's going to be inebriated and not wear a seatbelt at the same time.

Without thinking about it, you stretch to reach behind the seat and grope for the driver's side seatbelt. Your other arm goes around his waist to grab it, and even with such long arms you end up crushed against his side.

"What're you doing?" he says with a throaty chuckle. You finally pull the seatbelt over to the clip, and get it in with only a few tries. 

"Making sure you don't die," you mumble as you sit back; feeling a little stupid.

As he pulls the truck into the parking lot of your apartment building, he turns to give you a bemused look. His cheeks are all ruddy from drinking. "We're home."

You have no real response for that, feeling a lot stupider. Yeah, you are home. Oh my god, what's wrong with you? Still looking at you, he slowly unbuckles the seatbelt you just did up before leaning closer. You can smell the beer on his breath as he reaches over to undo yours as well. His hand stays on the other side of your hips, your noses almost touching.

"Thanks for taking care of me," he says, voice low and quiet. A shiver runs through you, but before you take a breath to say what would probably end up being words at random because your brain is completely empty, he's crushing his lips against yours. 

For some reason, this sends what may as well be a jolt of electricity straight to your dick. You gasp against Reiner's mouth, back breaking out in a cold sweat. Your shoulders push back against the hard vinyl and you're incredibly conscious of how hungry he feels as he kisses you, and his chapped lips and the slight scruff on his chin he's usually to lazy to shave because it's too fair to show.

When he moves back a little, it feels like he sucked the breath right out of you. You just stay there, pressed back against the seat and staring at nothing and you feel like he might be about to ask if you're okay.

"I don't know, never mind," you say, even though you're pretty sure that doesn't even close to make sense in this context. Fortunately, he's used to your near word-salad and he falls into one of those stupid easy smiles and the next thing you know you've lunged forwards to kiss him back.

He makes an uncharacteristic surprised noise, but you're too busy trying to match the intensity he has when he kisses you to notice. It's a incredible task when you're so not an intense person, and you don't even know why you're trying. He tries to climb on top of you and you hear the thunk as he presumably smacks his head on the ceiling. 

"Lay down," he's breathless and his face is redder now and maybe it's a strange thing to notice in this moment but even though he doesn't blush anywhere near as often as you, his fair face shows it more. His ears are bright red, and that's sort of sweet. The thought occurs to you as you slide down to the seat, forgetting as you sometimes so how tall you are and smacking your own head off of the door.

His voice immediately goes up an octave into that worried coo you're so accustomed to. "Are you okay?" His fingers hesitantly brush your hair, and although you're seeing stars it's not the first time you've hit your head on things. Instead of trying to talk, you just hold up a shaky finger and press it against his lips. 

Reiner instantly softens from helicopter parent mode, shoulders sinking as he relaxes. His hand slides tenderly around to the back of your neck, and you have to clench your teeth to stop a gasp. You had no idea your neck was this sensitive, oh my god.

"Holy shit, you're hot," he says it with a breathless little laugh, but his eyes are blown wide and shining and he's looking at you like you matter so fucking much. It actually makes you just as breathless as it did when he kissed you. You're trembling, overwhelmed because you can hardly conceive of how he could _want_ you so much.

You are not sure how anyone wears denim, because the fly against your erection is actually causing you pain. You look down, and are met with the fact that Reiner is hard enough to show a clear outline in his own jeans. It would be so easy to…

Cautiously, you press a knee up against him, actually startling when he grunts in response. Oh. Well, okay. That. Yeah. You push it up again, curiously watching his face. He bites the inside of his lip, and you literally watch his eyes go hazy.

"Fuck, Bert…" he hangs his head, chest heaving. "Some innocent little thing you are, eh?"

You could say something, and maybe you normally even would, but suddenly his broad hands are pushing up your stomach under your shirt. The gasp you suck in is probably almost comical, but you don't care because his rough fingertips are taking in every inch of you. A really embarrassing noise comes out of you when he brushes your nipples and the combination of that and the fact that he's pushed your shirt up to your armpits makes you jerk to cover yourself. 

"No," he mutters, a husky tone in his voice that you've never heard before. It makes you want to squirm, and when he catches the wrists you've awkwardly crossed in front of your chest, you actually feel yourself twitch in your pants. He's grinning down at you, eyes gleaming, and it is with rising horror that you realize that he knows exactly what he just did to you.

He doesn't say anything about it, thank god. He does, however, pull your arms apart and pin them against the seat. Admittedly, there's not much pulling or pinning involved. You're as pliable as a doll. He leans down and kisses you again, and your back arches of its own free will and your leg is jammed painfully against the steering wheel because his body is too wide to fit in between your thighs. You feel his spit drying on your cheek as he trails down from your mouth to your neck, and your stomach tightens when you feel him latch on.

You can easily say you've never been so turned on in your life. You actually feel like you might explode, and even in the moment you're vaguely aware that sounds stupid but can think of no other way to describe it. You desperately try to squirm under Reiner's weight; because if you don't you might spontaneously combust.

Suddenly, you realize that those noises are coming out of your mouth.

"Your neck's really sensitive," Reiner says in a rough whisper. His eyes are bright and huge and you can feel the color flooding into your face even faster at his words.

"Am I doing that?" you find yourself saying, and your voice sounds foggy even to your own ears.

"Doing what?"

"The noises." Your voice cracks but you're already so embarrassed that it hardly matters any more. In the time it takes you to get those two words out, he's already back at your neck and scraping with his teeth or something that makes you try to move again, at all in this cramped space.

"Yeah," his voice is really really low. "That's you, Bert." His hand slides from your bony wrist to lace with yours and squeeze tightly. "It's hot, don't stop."

Your hips are actually aching with the effort of accommodating him, but it's nothing to the overwhelming and painful and completely _fucking alien_ arousal that feels like it's crashing through your body in waves. "Reiner!" you hear yourself choke, and he must hear the borderline-fear in your voice because he stops what he's doing immediately and his head jerks up and he looks right at you.

"What's up?"

You might be trembling but you can't tell. He looks worried and you want to tell him what's up but you have trouble wording things normally and now there's just no way. You're too dizzy and distracted to even string a few words together. "I haven't…"

"Don't tell me you haven't, fucking…" he has to stop and catch his breath. "Masturbated, because I know that's not true."

You shake your head so insistently that you almost smash your temple off of the window crank. "No, I. This is…" You force yourself to swallow and try again. "Really different?"

"Guess I'm just overwhelmingly sexy?" He tried to laugh it off; then his brow furrowed back into that worried look. "You want me to stop?"

"No." You say it so quickly your heart almost stops with embarrassment. You will definitely combust, or something, if he stops. You've never felt anything even close to this intense when you were getting yourself off, and it might be strange or wrong ; but Reiner being here makes you feel safer. 

He knows what he's doing. Left to your own devices, you wouldn't have a clue. 

He cracks a huge grin, and somehow that settles you more than anything else ever could. You're so busy focusing on how he's lowering his face back to your neck that you let out a startled cry when his hand finds its way to the painful bulge in your jeans.

"Fuck…" it's jerked from your mouth in a harsh gasp, something you can't hold back. He must have pushed down your zipper, because you can suddenly feel his touch tenfold. Pressure is building in the base of your spine, and you can no longer deny that you're shaking. His mouth on your neck is making it almost unbearable. You try to say please, you try to beg him, but your voice comes out as nothing but pathetic whimpers. 

"God, Bertl," he mumbles against your skin. He hasn't called you that since you were a little kid; something he made up because your parents didn't shorten your name. Something about it makes warmth blossom in your chest. The heel of his hand kneads into you and your body forces itself into another arch; pressing you against him. Your limbs are numb and tingling and you don't know how much more you can take.

Everything suddenly goes white and achingly tense. It seems to last an incredibly long time, a completely different animal from the momentary relief you got from masturbating. Hell, if masturbating felt like that you might actually do it somewhere near as much as you seem to be expected to.

"Holy shit."

It isn't until then that you realize he never even got your boxers down. Oh my god. You keep your face against his shoulder, where it somehow ended up hidden. Was that even possible? For twelve year old boys, maybe. Here you are, twenty and probably as virginal as most men of the clergy; with cum sticking your boxers uncomfortably to your skin.

"No, stop hiding, that was the hottest thing I've ever seen in my life." 

The blunt honestly in his voice just makes your face redder, but he pulls you away from his shoulder regardless. The seatbelt clip digging into your lower back is starting to become more than a nuisance, so you struggle to squirm into something closer to a seated position. When Reiner realizes you're trying to move, he grabs your waist and helps haul you up.

Now that you're less distracted, you notice it's actually kind of breathtaking how appealing he looks right now. He's not even sightly abashed of the bright blush high on his cheeks, or the extremely obvious bulge in his pants.

You're staring. You're really, really staring and you can't stop. Another huge grin is spreading across his face. "You okay there?"

Usually he doesn't ask that when you stay quiet, so you're a little taken aback by the question. "Uh, yeah?" you reply quietly, very aware you're still staring. "Can I try?"

He cocks his head to the side like a puppy. You can tell he doesn't get what you're asking, and that's probably in good part because of the fact there's not much blood going to his brain right now. You edge closer, feeling a drop of cold sweat run down your spine. Your head brushes against the roof of the truck, because you're really just too tall for this.

It's a long pause, and you know it, but it takes you a long time to work up the courage to ever do anything; if you ever do anything at all. 

You're going to. You're going to do it. 

With a hesitant hand, you reach out and only find enough confidence to rest it on his waist. You're close enough to touch foreheads, him taller than you now because his knees are tucked under him, his neck bent to accommodate the stupid low roof. You open your mouth to talk and your face is burning bright red. You can't help it.

"Can I try?"

He blinks once, then his eyes light up with realization. "Oh! Oh, you don't, heh, have to. I don't wanna make you nervous…" you can tell he really doesn't, and is a little concerned he already has; and that makes your heart come up to do weird things in your throat.

You're always going to be nervous. You feel almost like you're not in control of your own body as you slide your hand down to press against that heat, like you're outside your body and watching yourself. You can feel the soft sound he makes on your mouth because he's only an inch or two away, and it sends a shiver through your body.

"… if you want to though."

You try to find his zipper, but your hand isn't being particularly obedient and even when you do find it you seem to have far more trouble actually gripping it than you should.

Reiner is merciful and only makes you suffer for a few seconds. "I can get that," he mutters, his hand gently tugging yours away. He shifts his legs so they're not tucked under him any more, then undoes his pants with a heavy sigh of relief. You can see why, now that his dick is tenting his boxers. You knew it was pretty big, but…

God, maybe you shouldn't be this embarrassed. You've seen him naked before.

Once again, you're only brave enough to put a hand on his waist. You stare down apprehensively, trying to imagine yourself reaching into his boxers and actually wrapping your hand around his dick and _feeling_ it, then pulling it out and…

"You don't have to, Bertl," he says in a low and honest voice; and were it anyone else you'd let those words give you an excuse to curl up in an anxious little ball and never try to do anything again. Shockingly, they just make you realize that you really, really do _want_ to do this. The fact that he seems to think you don't only hardens your resolve, and before you can work yourself up any more over it, you shove your hand down into his boxers and form a loose fist around his dick.

Yeah, it's pretty big. Okay. 

The noise he makes when you touch him makes you completely forget to talk yourself through the process of pulling your wrist back to a comfortable position and flipping the waistband of his boxers down. Oh my god. You have a feeling that if you hadn't just had the most ridiculously intense orgasm of your life, you might be getting ready to go again.

You have no idea where you're supposed to be looking, so you almost instinctively lean in to mouth at his neck like he did to you. Copying his actions seems like the only logical course to you. It's a little easier to remember how you're supposed to work a dick when you're not staring at it. You can hear Reiner breathing heavily in your ear, feel his heart pounding against your chest. He's really, really warm; warmer even than usual. You try to stroke him like you would yourself, but it's not like you have extensive experience and you're afraid to hold too tight.

"Here," he says, voice gentle and low. He takes your wrist, then pulls your hand up to his mouth to lick your palm. Your face, pressed against his neck; burns with embarrassment because you should've fucking thought of that. He guides your hand back down, wrapping it around himself and squeezing a little; probably to indicate that you can hold more firmly. You freeze up for a moment, more humiliated still that you can't even accomplish a task anyone with a dick should be more than capable of.

"You're doing good," he mumbles in your ear. "Promise."

You swallow around the lump in your throat, tightening your hand and making it move again. The spit makes it a lot easier, and his breath catches as soon as you start stroking. Wow, how could you have ever denied how fucking attractive he is? You continue to try to do the things he was doing to your neck, and find it incredibly hard to co-ordinate that and moving your hand at the same time. How do people do this?

"Little faster…" his voice in your ear is rough with arousal. You try to do as he says, but your hand is too dry. You lift your head from his neck so you can lick your own hand this time. You can not be completely incompetent. You really want to be not completely incompetent. You want to make him happy…

"That's great," he purrs, resting his cheek against your hair. Even if he's lying it makes you feel better, reminds you that it's just him and he's never judged you for anything. You can feel his heartbeat speeding up, and the little sounds he makes when he exhales are so hot. As much as you don't masturbate, you find yourself thinking that next time you'll definitely be remembering this.

You listen carefully to his responses and just try to do what he seems to like. At least when you're doing it to yourself, it's easy to feel what you like best. His arm slides around your waist and squeezes you tightly. You're just starting to lose self-confidence again when he grunts softly into your hair, and you speed up despite the cramp developing in your wrist.

He starts to tense under you, but before you can really react he grabs you and jerks you up out of your hiding place so he can mash your mouth against his. You squeak in surprise, but try to kiss back and keep your hand moving. He actually _groans_ against your mouth, and your whole body shivers. You feel him throb as his cum spatters your hand.

You almost feel like you could go again. Holy fuck he's so hot. Your face flames red again at the thought, and Reiner breaks your messy kiss. When you open your eyes, he's already looking at you.

"That was great. You're great." He says breathlessly, and all you can do is hide your face again. You're not great and you have no idea why he thinks so.

For a few moments you sit in silence, you still hiding from embarrassment with no clue how you'll bring yourself to look at him, and him still holding you tight. His breathing is starting to slow, and you are really losing your ability to ignore how uncomfortable your dirty underwear are making you.

"We can't stay out here forever," he says with a hint of amusement. He kisses your head, then untwines his arm from around your waist; leaving you strangely cold. He tugs your jeans closed and zips them back up.

"You sure?" The thought of going outside seems pretty horrifying to you right now, like everyone you see will know what just happened.

"Yeah, you big baby," he says it with no shortage of affection in his voice, and it makes you feel warm inside. "I'm sure."


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> aka bert cannot fucking relationship

It isn't until the next morning that you look yourself in the mirror; an expression on your face like you're about to become a mass murderer as always. Last night Reiner dragged you right into his bed and pulled off your t-shirt so that when he bear hugged you you'd be back to chest. You always sleep with a shirt on because you sweat so much during the night, and you told him that, but he paid you no mind. 

So when you woke up it was with that weird damp hot-and-cold feeling; and stuck to his chest. In trying to get free of his sleeping death-grip you woke him up, but all he did was mumble tiredly at you and drag you back to bed. You don't have an early class today, Bertl; stay here. Are you going to call me Bertl all the time now? Yeah, get used to it.

As nice as it was, you eventually had to get up or pee yourself. You told him as much, but it still wasn't enough to stop his grumbling. Before he started drinking, he was always the morning person out of the two of you. Now he's often hungover and grumpy.

You're still not wearing a shirt, an honestly uncommon occurrence for you. As such, it is literally impossible to miss the dark purple marks literally _all over your neck Reiner oh my god…_

How the hell did they even get here? Okay, you do admittedly have a pretty good idea of that; but it takes an entire moment of near-hyperventalation to realize it has everything to do with Reiner drooling all over your neck last night. Oh my god. You crane your neck to check the damage, which is incredibly extensive considering that it was the farthest thing from painful when he was doing it.

Holy shit, how are you going to hide this? You aren't exactly as fair as Reiner is, but the bruises are still deep and obvious and you are a hundred percent sure that everyone who so much as glimpses them will know what they're from.

"Reiner." 

He replies only with a questioning grunt, not so much as bothering to look up from his pillow.

"… Reiner."

"Whaaaat?" he groans, squinting at you with bleary eyes.

You point at your neck, trying to look stern at him but ending up somewhere more like worried and knowing it.

He gives you a big dopey grin and you wish you were capable of being more angry so you could convey to him the gravity of this situation. You stare him down, because that's the best you can do.

Stretching like a lion, he pushes himself up a little and tips his head, cocky smirk already on his face even though his eyelids are still heavy. He indicates a cluster of red marks on the side of his neck, practically radiating smug satisfaction. "You did me too."

It's all you can do not to sputter indignantly at him. It's _absolutely_ incomparable, and you know he knows it, but you feel yourself going pink because yeah, you did do that. "What am I…"

He shrugs. "Wear a turtleneck? You do anyways. It won't look weird." He side eyes you and the smirk grows back into a shit-eating grin. "Or, you could just show 'em off…"

You are suddenly a hundred percent sure that these big purple marks were not even close to an accident. He laughs at what you're sure is probably your look of abject horror as he finally hauls himself out of bed, pausing as he passes you on the way to the door. His shoulder brushes against yours, and he gives you a predatory little smirk. "I want everyone to see mine."

You recover just quickly enough to drive your elbow into his back as he starts walking again; and even though he laughs, it's still satisfying.

…

No one's commented on the fact that you've been wearing turtlenecks or thin scarves for the past few days, so you can only hope no one's assumed to the state of your neck. Reiner makes no secret of liking the marks that he made, often grabbing the neck of your shirt and pulling it down to see them better; giving you one of those big smug grins.

You don't mind that so much.

As usual, you lay curled up in bed with your laptop; playing a movie in one window and lurking social media in the other. After only about an hour, however, you find yourself wondering if it would be okay to go and sit in Reiner's room instead. It wouldn't be a first, but, well. You are a 'thing' now?

You guess that if anything, that makes it more okay for you to go and exist in his room instead of yours. Gathering up your laptop cord and headphones, you wander across the hallway and toe open his half-closed door. He's perched on the edge of the bed, shirtless and doing bicep curls. Your cheeks feel a little warm, which is stupid - you've spent a really significant portion of your life watching him exercise. 

Despite the headphones you can hear bleeding music from where you're standing in the doorway, he looks up as you come in. He tugs one of them out with his free hand, not breaking his rhythm. "You okay, Bert?"

You give him a quick nod and very small smile, reassuring him as you've always had to do frequently that just because you're quiet doesn't mean you're sad. 

"Cool," he grunts, putting the earbud back in and returning to what he's doing. You crawl on the bed behind him, sprawling to reach the outlet by the night table. By When you've managed to set yourself up again, you're a little surprised to see that you have a message.

archimedesprincipal: Hey, Bert! You… wouldn't happen to have a minute?  
bertholdt1230: I do. I'm not busy. 

You wouldn't have guessed it was Armin - you talk to him a lot more in person than you do online. Marco's the opposite, maybe because he's always free to talk at such weird hours. Or maybe that's just the way he is. Clearly, Armin wants to talk to you about something specific right now.

archimedesprincipal: Okay, that's great. Well, I've been thinking about asking for a little while…  
archimedesprincipal: but, I didn't want to make things awkward.  
archimedesprincipal: Now that you and Reiner are together it's no big deal.  
archimedesprincipal: I know I don't have to worry about you telling this to anyone either.

Despite the fact that he's dropped hints and you know he has, you have no idea what this could be about. You are, however, embarrassed and even mildly annoyed that everything hasn't stopped being about your… relationship, yet. Can't people just leave you alone?

At the thought of said 'relationship', your gaze slides off of your computer screen and over to Reiner's back. His skin has a slight sheen of sweat, and before you know it, you've become a bit fixated on the way the muscles flex and shift as he does his curls.

He must've been able to feel you looking, because he twists a little to shoot you an amused look over his shoulder. He pokes out the tip of his tongue, and you can't control the flush that suddenly rises in your cheeks. You quickly look back at your screen to see that Armin's somehow written you an essay.

archimedesprincipal: So… what does a guy do when he has a big dumb crush on his big dumb best friend? :c  
archimedesprincipal: I mean, it's been bugging me since the three of us moved in together. Just having him around all the time, you know? And having to look after his stupid ass…  
archimedesprincipal: I know I don't have to look after him! He kind of doesn't even deserve it most of the time, but I can't just leave him there in misery like Mikasa usually does.   
archimedesprincipal: She knoooows he deserves it. I do too but I have to go and coddle him. It's stupid.   
archimedesprincipal: I don't think he's interested in me or anything, but I guess it's hard to tell those things with him. I was okay with it… or at least pretty okay, but…  
archimedesprincipal: I think he's sleeping with his Drill Sergeant.   
archimedesprincipal: He won't actually admit it, because Mikasa just HATES this guy. And has already given him plenty of shit over the rumor, under the assumption it's true. So he's been denying it even to me, I think because he's afraid I'll tell her.  
archimedesprincipal: I'm pretty sure he is though. I bet I'd know for sure if I went to the Police Academy with them, but I don't. Judging by his reactions, though, and all the other evidence I've seen, he is.  
archimedesprincipal: I know I have no right to get upset about it, because I haven't told him how I feel or anything…  
archimedesprincipal: So, I guess I'm asking if I should tell him, or how to deal with this?

You stare at the screen, trying to comprehend why Armin thinks it's a good idea to ask you for advice. The only time you have any clue what you're doing is when Reiner or someone else tells you. You have no will of your own, and you'll admit that freely.

bertholdt1230: I didn't do anything with Reiner. He talked to me.  
bertholdt1230: So you really shouldn't ask me…  
archimedesprincipal: I can't ask anyone else! C'mon, Bert :C  
archimedesprincipal: I mean how do you tell a guy like Eren anything?

Honestly, you don't think it's surprising that he's got a crush on Eren. That is one of Armin's favourite things to talk about, after all. You're really not sure why. Even thinking of Eren's loud, obnoxious demeanour makes you flinch. Despite the fact that he's a good friend of Reiner's, you don't know him that well and have no desire to. So far as you've seen, he doesn't have redeeming qualities.

Oh, he's a good friend of Reiner's. That gives you something resembling an idea.

bertholdt1230: Um. Well, I talked to Christa about Reiner for some reason, and she just kind of told him… that's why he talked to me.  
bertholdt1230: I can ask Reiner to talk to Eren. I mean, I'll try and make sure he's kind of tactful. Like find out how he feels instead of just telling him, uh, how you feel.  
bertholdt1230: Or maybe at least find out about that instructor of his. I think he'd want to brag about it to Reiner…

Even that much is incredibly proactive of you. You're almost impressed with yourself, as much as you know it's probably a terrible plan and you still cannot believe that Armin, a legitimate genius at making up plans if you've ever heard of one, is asking for _your_ opinion. 

It's honestly almost laughable.

archimedesprincipal: Hm, if you think he'll be able to do that. He is really good with people so I'm willing to believe that he can.  
archimedesprincipal: If you could ask him that would be great.

Pushing yourself up from your elbows, you lean over and gently hook a finger around the cord of Reiner's earbud, tugging it out. He glances over at you.

"Let me know when you're done this set of reps?" You ask quietly, and he nods.

A few minutes later, he sets his weight down on the floor and turns to you, running a hand through his sweat-damp hair. You hope he doesn't decide to flop on you. "Yeah?"

You try to organize the information in your head. You'd rather just show him the conversation and not have to relay it all, but you know he'd baulk at Armin's wall of text. 

"Armin is, uh, interested in Eren," Reiner snorts at that, indicating it's no surprise to him. You guess you're not really… surprised, per se, as much as it'd just never occurred to you. "He thinks Eren's…" you pause to look for the appropriate words.

"Fucking a teacher?" He supplies helpfully, grinning.

"… yeah."

"Old news. And?"

"I think he wants to know if he should give up. Could you… uh, find out from Eren?" 

Reiner gives a thoughtful little shrug. "Did he actually ask you to ask me that? Good god." He does flop back, because of course he does; but it's only your legs he lays on and consequently makes slightly sticky with sweat.

You shake your head quickly. "He asked me what to do," it comes out almost apologetically sheepish.

Reiner actually laughs. You're not hurt, though you might be if it was someone else. He has just as much right to poke fun at your spinelessness as you do.

"… I know."

He gives you an amused, teasing look, arching an eyebrow in a way that clearly says, 'wow, you came to a decision?' Admittedly you're almost as impressed in a way that's entirely free of sarcasm. "Yeah, I'll nudge him about it. Pick on him about Armin being his naggy wife at parties and see where that gets me." He's smirking to himself when you turn back to your laptop.

bertholdt1230: Reiner says he will.  
bertholdt1230: He also says he already knows the teacher thing is true.  
bertholdt1230: Sorry…  
archimedesprincipal: I figured as much :/  
archimedesprincipal: Thank you Bert! One of you just let me know, okay? I really appreciate it.  
bertholdt1230: It's okay.

You're kind of grossed out by the feeling of your leg hairs sticking to Reiner's sweaty back, so you kick your legs until he moves with a long-suffering groan. You stare at your pitiful little 'it's okay', knowing there's probably something more you should offer but having no idea what it was. Your condolences? That isn't right at all; you're pretty sure that implies that the answer is a definite no. Sympathies? Good luck?

archimedesprincipal: No really. It's a help c:  
bertholdt1230: I understand. 

You actually wince when you see that's you're too late, disproportionately embarrassed. You know you're overreacting without being told, but that doesn't stop you from turning away from the computer to hide your face in the rumpled blankets.

The click of your laptop being pushed closed is distinctive, and as you open your mouth to tell Reiner he doesn't need to do that you feel him plucking at the back of your shirt.

"Hey, c'mon," he says in a warm voice, not bothering to embarrass you further by asking what your problem is like anyone else would. "Spot for me, yeah?"

…

Finding yourself on the side of the bed he's been sleeping on, the one closer to the wall; you cocoon yourself deep in the blankets as you wait for him to come back from the bathroom. One would think with how much you sweat at night you wouldn't want blankets, but they would be wrong. Honestly, you find it difficult to sleep without them.

Using his pillow and with his blankets pulled up to your chin, you can't help but notice how much this doesn't smell like your bed. Maybe that's a weird thought; or maybe it's weird you hadn't already noticed, you don't know. It's a little bit Axe, which you don't use, and an awful lot of other things you wouldn't know how to put a name to but you certainly wouldn't call bad.

You don't think about laying in your boyfriend's bed and waiting for him to join you, because you're not even sure you can. 

However, laying in Reiner's bed and waiting for him and being surrounded by what is pretty identifiably his smell yet somehow being comfortable with that is pretty manageable.

You don't even realize you're staring at the door until he comes in wearing nothing but a jock strap and you quickly avert your eyes so you don't blush about it. You can actually feel him grinning as he turns off the light. You don't think you're a prude, but you really don't understand why he has to be wearing as little fabric as humanely possible while still… you don't think you'd call it 'modest' or 'decent'. Clothed. The bed sinks as he crawls onto it, and he tugs on the blankets you're wrapped up in.

"Share," he says in a low, playful whisper.

"Dibs." You whisper back; and maybe it's the 'kids having a sleepover' volume at which you're both speaking, but it dimly occurs to you that no one else has seen you act like an eight-year-old since… well, probably since you were younger than eight years old.

You were always the mature, reasonable one. 

He pounces you and a brief scuffle ensues, a decidedly not mature scuffle that involves you doing a lot of kicking because you're done if he gets you within his reach, and you always have been. In the end, he wins; because as always, he managed to get you in his arms and you just can't match his brute strength. Your back is pressed tight to his chest, you can feel his quickened heartbeat and exerted breathing. Your own arms are pinned to your sides, and since he's got you with your back to him there's not much your legs can do.

Instead of saying you surrender, you let your head thud back against his shoulder and narrow your eyes up at him to tell him he's being childish. "I win," he says smugly, because he can literally never miss an opportunity to be a cocky bastard.

You raise your eyebrows at him, because you've never been one to stroke his ego like that. He has enough already.

He lets you go.

Confused by your swapped positions on the bed, when you lay back down you belatedly realize that it's facing him, instead of away like you have before. Of course, your immediate thought is that you've done something wrong, but before you can get all worked up about that you see his smile in the dark and his hand slips around to your back, slowly but firmly drawing you close. Your nose bumps up against his nose, and you turn your face embarrassedly into the pillow. His breath is damp against your cheek.

You feel his hand move with purpose, sliding down to cup your ass. Your face starts to go red - why the hell does he have to do this right now? You'd be embarrassed any time he groped you like that, but it is kind of to be expected from him. This is such a weird time, though. 

Reiner shifts, leaning in closer. Your stomach tightens as you realize he's moving in to kiss your neck, then there's a noticeable twinge as his lips make contact and you realize he kissed right on one of those deep bruises. Ow. Does he really have to keep drawing attention to those things? He's clearly proud of them but thinking about them and how people might see them makes you so fucking uncomfortable…

Speaking of uncomfortable, it seems there was a reason you haven't been sleeping face to face. You have far, far too much leg and with you close to him like this it feels like there's literally nowhere to put them. You're not sure if you could actually sleep with someone breathing on your face, either. Besides, if he wants to kiss your neck you are really more than fine with him kissing the back of it, lack of bruises aside.

You manage to squirm around in his arms; settling in the position you've come to love. With him spooned up against your back you feel so warm and secure, and you can still sleep with your legs pulled up like you have since you were a kid. It honestly does feel like you fit together naturally.

He heaves a heavy sigh, draping his arm around your middle again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not obvious enough reiner. not obvious enough.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> aka reflections on a lot of things

"So are you gay, or what?"

You're curled up on the couch watching old Mythbusters episodes on Netflix when he suddenly strikes up conversation out of nowhere. That in itself is by no means strange; but it's not a question you expected out of nowhere to say the least. 

Or a question you expected at all.

Oh my god you've never thought about it.

You realize with creeping horror that you _don't actually know_.

You're very aware that you're staring at him wide-eyed, but as usual he isn't disconcerted by your blankness, which is really just an inability to find words. Actually finding them takes you even longer than usual, but he waits.

"I don't know." For as long as that'd taken you, one would think you'd have something better; but you genuinely don't know.

He squints, his look identifiable even to you as 'what? How?' However, he doesn't say it like that. "What do you like?" he says instead; and you can feel him scrutinizing you. Regardless of who it is that makes you a little uneasy.

The answer that immediately comes to mind is 'you', but you swallow that so fast you almost choke on it, going a little pink at the very fact that the thought crossed your mind. You panic a little, try for a very unsuccessful moment to think of something else to say, shift uncomfortably, then just give up and shrug.

"You've got to like something," he mumbles, shifting closer to you. What started as curiosity has become genuine interest. Your stomach gets tight with nerves as you struggle to think of anything you could say; but you come up dry. "You into pussy at all?" he asks with furrowed brows. You feel your cheeks start to go pink at his crudeness. His grin slowly falls into a serious expression and he adds in a reassuring tone; "… I'm not going to be offended, if you're worried about that or some dumb shit."

"I. Don't know." You manage again because you actually don't. Your face is rapidly going from pink to burning red and there is no way in hell you could even imagine having sex with a girl; the idea of it is more than enough to humiliate you.

He's still squinting at you, but now it's in a way that makes you pretty sure he just realized that you really don't know, not because you're embarrassed. "You ever wanted to fuck a girl?" He's genuinely trying to help now, that much is obvious; but you'd really rather he just didn't. "Used to think about fucking Annie?"

You actually choke. After a moment, you manage to shake your head; but that in no way communicates the utter horror you feel at even the thought of..

Then you realize that no, you never thought about it. Ever. Maybe you stared a little because she didn't wear a bra, maybe you even had some extremely red-faced moments when you thought about her stretching her arms over her head and pulling that big sweater off. However, you know with certainty that you'd never actually thought about… that. In fact, you're sure that you never even thought about _touching_ her breasts. It had simply never occurred to you.

"… you really never did, did you?" Reiner says quietly, and you curse how well he knows you. All you did was shake your head, but he knows. "I really did think you liked her." He makes a face, and it suddenly occurs to you that he loved you that whole time.

"Why?" You say before you can overthink it, hoping he knows what you're asking. There's a tug in your chest telling you maybe you should comfort him.

He gives a noncommittal shrug, looking the closest to abashed you've ever seen him. He's staring across the room now, even though his gaze was locked on you intently only a moment ago. "It's not like I could assume you'd be into guys, right? You'd never… showed that. Trust me, I was looking." His jaw sets in something resembling bitterness, and maybe it's that which finally unsticks your throat.

"I never indicated that I liked girls, either!" That came out a lot more forceful than you intended, and maybe you're just a little annoyed that he presumed things about you.

"Oh come the fuck on, Bert. You stared at Annie's tits all the time!"

"They're huge!" you blurt, feeling your face flare red. You're staring at each other and as soon as you realize that you want to curl into a ball and just apologize over and over again.

There's a moment of silence, during which you feel sicker and sicker. Then he snickers. 

"… they are fucking big."

His dumb grin is infectious, and you feel your mouth tremble as the corners quirk. After the moment you need to convince yourself this is the right thing to do, you slide a little closer to him and give him a hug. You bite back an apology, because you know he'll tell you to stop saying you're sorry. He always does.

Reiner sighs, and throws an almost tired arm around your waist. Your chin is resting on his bulky shoulder, and he tilts his head so it rests against yours.

"You really don't know at all, do you?"

"Mm-mm." 

For a few moments, you sit in comfortable silence; and you think he's dropped it. You feel no need to move from how you're holding him.

"… you have to be into something. You were pretty out of control turned on when we were screwing around in the truck."

You'd really rather die than continue this conversation. Dread pools in your stomach as you realize that admitting what you'd thought from the beginning is inevitable. You genuinely don't know what else to say. You hide your face in his shoulder as your cheeks burn, and he's too warm against you and you can feel his breath on your ear.

"… you," it's mumbled, ashamed and barely audible.

"What?"

You screw your face up and suddenly his shoulder is not enough, you wish you had your hands there too. "You. It's you. That's it."

He pauses, then gives a hesitant chuckle. "… that's sweet, but. Well, that isn't really how it works, Bertl."

"I don't know how it works," once again you're suddenly something resembling assertive and that kind of scares you. "I wasn't even… I didn't even feel interested in anything else before I started thinking about you."

Another long pause. Now you really want to die. You can't believe you just said that.

"What did you think about when you jacked it then?" His tone makes it only too clear he still doesn't understand, and you actually have no idea how you could've expected him to. He's never understood anything about you, has he?

"Nothing…" you say, so utterly humiliated by now that one more embarrassing admission just doesn't matter. "I just did it, I didn't think about anything…"

The next silence is even longer, and you can practically hear him thinking. He clearly knows how nervous you are, as the hand on your back starts to rub slow circles. 

"… huh." It's not dismissive at all, only thoughtful. "I wonder if there's like, a name for that." Your shoulders slump as you relax, glad that seems to be over with. You honestly don't give a shit if there's a name for it or not. You're a hundred percent happy to sit here quietly like this, face hidden as your blush slowly disappears, and listen to the TV in the background.

"… I always thought about you," he practically purrs, his usual teasing tone back in his voice. 

So much for your blush going away. Punching him in the stomach as payback is almost a reflex.

…

Other kids played outside, went on trips with their parents, and did after school activities; but you always just sat in your room. When school was over, it was straight to your room to work on your homework, sit quietly, and be a good boy.

It wasn't that your parents ever yelled, because they didn't. They also didn't pay you much notice at all. 

You always had Reiner to look forwards to. He lived a street over in your boring little subdivision, he was really funny, and for some reason he liked you. He was also not a good boy.

He took great delight in sneaking you out of your house after supper, especially when your parents rarely noticed. Reiner actually encouraged you to talk, something you were not at all used to; and together you went on grand adventures through the suburbs. He teased you for reading and told you not to do your homework and to come have fun with him and Berik. He made you laugh and remembered your birthday and wouldn't let the other neighbourhood kids pick on you for being so quiet.

There wasn't that much you could do in return, but you were good at holding him back when he started a fight he couldn't finish.

Your parents disapproved of him. You heard them talking about how you used to be Such a Good Boy until you started hanging around with Those Kids. 

You also heard them calling you an accident.

Even when they sent you to your room without dinner for sneaking out the night before, Reiner would come and hand you a box of crackers through your window and tell you that you didn't need to be any skinnier. He'd always been twice your size, though back then it was baby fat. 

You remember one day when you sat with Reiner and Berik by the side of the creek - it was really just a storm drain, but you'd always called it the creek - with your shoes off as the sun set. You'd been starting to fret about getting home before your mother came to tell you to go to bed and found you gone. Reiner had asked you if your parents had ever told you they loved you. 

You had to think about it so hard, but finally you shook your head. You remember the look they both gave you. At the time, you hadn't understood.

Honestly, you barely do now. 

You don't hate your parents, you really don't. However, you feel no strong attachment to them either. Were they to die tomorrow, you would go to the funeral out of obligation but you don't think you would cry about it. Maybe that's wrong of you.

You were past the point in your life when you wanted their attention. As a kid you'd strived for flawless grades, kept your room spotless and perfect, and followed every one of their rules to the letter. You remember coming home from school and setting a straight A report card on the table before returning to your room to eagerly await congratulations and praise that never came. You'd been so jealous when Berik said his parents bought him a treat every time he made good marks on his report card. Honestly, you were even a little jealous when you saw Reiner's up on his family's fridge.

There'd been a crybaby phase too; where literally anything was enough to make you start bawling. Your parents would just send you to your room where you'd be left to self-soothe in a cocoon of blankets. When Reiner dried your tears and wrapped his arms around you, you didn't know how to react. Even Berik's awkward pats on the head were more than you ever expected and often enough to shut you up immediately. The crying had passed, the anxiety didn't.

You don't really know when it happened, but there came a time when you stopped trying to impress your parents, and started trying to impress Reiner instead. 

…

"Tell Reiner I'm invoking our special friendship clause." You feel your mouth set in a tight, worried line; as it has been since your phone first rang and you answered it to hear Annie's deep, harsh voice. You really can't fathom why she always makes you play messenger - surely it can't be that important that she keep up their premise of not getting along.

"Reiner," you say softly, and he raises his brows at you questioningly. He's had an eye on you since the phone rang, and you can only assume it's because he expected it to be your parents due to lack of other options. "Annie wants t-"

"I don't want to tell him shit," she cuts in, and you nearly startle. It clearly shows on your face because Reiner's mouth quirks in a small smile. "Say I'm invoking our special friendship clause. He knows what that means." The words seem vaguely ominous to you, but you kind of suppose that's mostly because Annie is involved.

You start over; mumbling, "Annie says she's invoking the special friendship clause." If you were funny you would probably make a joke about how you didn't know they were friends.

He makes a face. "That's not specific enough," he says, loudly enough that you don't have to repeat it.

"I mean," she starts, just as you pull the phone away from your ear and quickly turn on speakerphone, "that if he doesn't get off my ass about where I'm going on break, I'm going to tell you about his gay crisis."

"But Annie, you have such a nice ass!" you go red by proxy.

"… Bertholdt you spineless little shit. Did you put me on speaker?" 

"I didn't want to repeat all that," you mutter, your voice so small compared to the two of theirs.

"You're the one making him run back and forth like we're a couple of divorcees, Leonhardt," he's grinning but you can tell it's a bit forced, and you can only think that it's because he doesn't want her to tell you. "And that topic was outlined as off limits."

It's not that you're offended, but you wouldn't have thought there was all that much about Reiner you didn't already know. 

"No longer off limits due to special circumstances," she snaps, and you can hear the smirk in her voice too. You may not be in high school any more, but some things don't change and the two of them still get along best when they're trying to one-up each other. 

"And those are?" he says almost slyly, glancing up at you and winking. It's probably intended to pass along some message, but you have no idea what he means by it. 

"That I'm a fucking bitch. I'll see you at Christmas." She hangs up immediately, and Reiner snickers. 

"She'll see us at Christmas, apparently," he says as he looks up at you again. "Implying we're going home for it, I guess. Though my mom would probably pitch a fit if we didn't."

"Why did you wink at me?" you ask bluntly, because later he might expect you to know and you are admittedly a little curious. 

He doesn't seem surprised you asked. He grins and leans forwards. "Special circumstances," he says in a mischievous almost-purr that has you starting to flush all over again, "means she's probably gonna get _laid_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> reiner 'what are sexualities that arent gay and straight' braun


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> aka things have sort of settled, in some ways

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, I'm finally back to this thing. I'm not getting into why it's been so long, but I hope you all forgive me and are happy to see a new chapter. A lot of the reason was I was having trouble accepting that a timeskip was really needed here. The important thing is that I decided I was absolutely going to update for Reibert week. 15 total chapters is my guesstimate, I think my original goal was 12? But now I'm thinking I need about 15 to wrap everything up properly.

The snow is, yet again, falling aggressively. As you stare out your window towards the bleak grey expanse of the campus’ East block, you dread actually going to class. If your Good Boy tendencies were a little less deeply ingrained, you would probably skip. 

Alas. 

Alas even more that all of the really good Starbucks drinks are cold. You’ve been wishing since the first cold front that you could actually enjoy a frappe again.

Your relationship with Reiner hasn’t so much stagnated as it has become normalized; grown easier. If you do not come to his room to sleep he inevitably comes to yours. Your bed smells like his bed, and that thought doesn’t really send you into a panic any more. In fact, it’s quite nice, and admitting that to yourself has made things a lot easier. 

Reiner is very right. Most of your problems your own mind makes for itself.

As you squirm into a sweater - cable knit and a little big on you - your phone starts to ring. Assuming it is your partner (you actually think of him that way now, sometimes), you grab it up and answer it carelessly as you leave your room, scanning around for where you left that beanie you were wearing yesterday.

“Hello?”

“Ah, hi Bert!” Your stomach contracts a little when you realize it is Marco, not Reiner, and you answered the call assuming the latter. You push your embarrassment away, telling yourself you really didn’t say anything and no one would be able to tell. You think. “I, um… well, I forgot my coat at Jean’s apartment yesterday. I hate to bother you, but it’s snowing an awful lot and scrubs really aren’t warm.”

You have a feeling you know what he’s going to ask, and despite how much you don’t want to do it you already know he’s going to say yes.

“Can you pick me up?” He asks sheepishly. 

“Yes,” you say, despite how much you hate driving and hate Reiner’s truck and hate the idea of it in these conditions. It’s not far. You’ll be fine, you think. 

“Thank you so much! I’ll make it up to you,” he sounds really happy, and that makes you glad you didn’t say no. “I’m in Blakelock building.”

As you confirm that and end the call, you find the damn hat you were looking for and jam it on your head. You do not have such high hopes for the car keys, as Reiner never puts them in the same place despite there being a key rack by the door. He can never even find them. The man couldn’t be organized if his life depended on it.

They are on the floor with the shoes. Ridiculous, but it could have been a lot harder.

As you grab your coat and leave, you realize it’s a good idea to tell Reiner that the truck is coming to school with you in case he notices and thinks something happened. Walking down the apartment hallway, you send a quick text.

Me: I’m taking the truck. Marco needed a ride  
home before my class.  
I’ll be back at the normal time.

It is freezing outside. The snowflakes are tiny little pellets that may as well be hail, and collect on your shoulders and head; even getting caught in your long eyelashes. The truck’s driver side door is stuck shut from the cold, and you have to slam your shoulder into it before you can get it to open. The vinyl seat is like ice and you can feel your ass going numb through your pants. Wonderful. This is ridiculous. It probably won’t even start, and the heater isn’t fantastic so you certainly won’t be very warm and will be lucky if the windshield stays de-fogged. You’re so focused on your annoyance that you don’t actually remember to be anxious until you have got it started and throw the parking brake off.

Then you just sort of sit there for a moment with your hands on the wheel and try not to panic. You are not a very good driver even under ideal conditions, and you rarely drive alone. Especially not in this truck. You only really know how to drive automatic and you need Reiner to shift the stick.

You realize this is a really and truly terrible idea. It is also too far gone and now you have to go through with it. 

As you urge the truck cautiously through the snowy roads, you force yourself to breathe normally and keep telling yourself that you’re not dead yet. There is one terrifying moment when you lose control of the back end - presumably due to ice - and it slews around, but you keep very firmly in your mind that Reiner told you to never slam the brake if you lose control of a vehicle and to your utter relief, everything evens out.

You are quite proud of yourself. You’ve never done anything like that before. Hell, you used to let go of the steering wheel completely when anything even remotely abnormal happened. It’s obvious that one’s drilled right out of you, because you’ve been clutching the stupid thing painfully tight the entire time.

Somehow you make it and are able to pull up in front of the building. You’re shaking a little, but beyond impressed with this achievement. You really did it.

“Thank you so much!” Marco gives you a guilty smile as he climbs in, covering in goosebumps you can see from the driver’s seat just from running between the door and the truck. He obviously couldn’t walk home like that. You definitely did the right thing, even if it seemed a little reckless. You feel good enough about that to take you through the drive to Marco’s dorm on the other side of campus with no mishaps.

It seems like Reiner is also right about driving being mostly a feat of confidence.

It isn’t until you get to your own lecture hall that you scoop your phone out of your pocket and see your eight missed calls from Reiner. Oops.

Hot Stud: bert im going to have a heart attack  
Hot Stud: piCK UP THE PHONE  
Hot Stud: seriously come on  
Me: I’m fine. I’m in class now, I’m very sorry I worried you.  
Hot Stud: holy fuck im gonna come meet you after your  
class so i can slap your face with my face you dumbass  
Hot Stud: never do that again you scared the shit out of me  
Me: Sorry ;-;

Maybe more than a little reckless. It’s probably a bad sign when Reiner is being the sensible and concerned one.

…

He brings you an earl grey tea latte, and you reward him with a kiss on the cheek. It was something you couldn’t even imagine yourself doing a few months ago, but now it happens before you can even actually think about it. He looks stressed, and if you were more like him you’d probably tease him about that being your job.

“What the hell were you thinking?” he scolds you, but not in the way your parents did to make you hang your head in shame. You may not be the best at interpreting emotions, but you know from experience he’s just trying to work through his concern that you were going to get hurt. It’s something you’ve seen time and time again since you were kids - he once punched Berik in the face after the other boy convinced you to walk on the railing of the pedestrian foot bridge over the mouth of the water reservoir where you grew up. As a generally easygoing person, Reiner does not panic often enough to know how to handle the feeling.

“I’m not really sure,” you answer honestly. Abashed, you hide your mouth behind your latte.

“Bertl, I don’t even drive when it’s this shitty out. You can’t drive stick at all. I’m not even sure how you got here.”

You give him a tiny embarrassed shrug. “I did okay.” You decide to leave out how you’d had to wait until the truck dropped back and made that weird little grinding noise in order to know when to shift. He really doesn’t need to know that, ever.

He’s just kind of silently flustered and fussy for a moment, and you stand there and quietly drink your drink and wait for him to work it out.

“At least give me a chance to talk you out of it next time,” he grumbles, and you nod quickly. As much as you had a few triumphant moments, it was an incredibly harrowing experience that you’re not really looking to repeat any time soon. “And you can say no to people, you know. Like even if you don’t have a reason.”

You do know that in theory, but it never really ends up happening in practice. He knows that, because you hardly ever say no to him. You’ve come to suspect that’s why any sexual encounters between the two of you have been pretty few and far between, and never really gone further than the first time.

Secretly, you really wouldn’t mind if they did. You’re too embarrassed to say anything, though, and too inexperienced to know how to initiate the next step. Maybe if you quietly will the thoughts at Reiner long enough, he’ll pick up on them somehow.

You like the way things are, anyways. You just wouldn’t mind.

Reiner decides to leave the truck at the school overnight, and pick it up after class tomorrow. If anything it’s snowing harder now, and he doesn’t want to chance it. He tells you not to feel guilty and that he’s just happy you made it here okay, but that doesn’t totally prevent you from feeling guilty anyways.

The both of you walked home with your faces buried deeply in your coats, eyes down to prevent snow from flying in them. The red cold flush shows up very bright against his pale skin, but he seems to feel it less than you do. Your ears are numb somehow in spite of your hat.

“You talked to Armin lately?”

You shrug, then realize he probably can’t tell under your coat. “A little, I guess.”

He waits, presumably to see if you’ll continue talking on your own, then prompts you. “And what’s he gonna do?”

Sighing against the cold metal zipper at the neck of your coat, you shrug again, already forgetting how pointless that was the first time. Reiner is such a busybody. Almost as bad as Christa, though he’d never in a million years admit it. “I don’t know. He hasn’t talked about it.”

True to his word, Reiner had pried Eren for a little information. He’d reported back that although the idiot seemed to have never considered a relationship with his best friend, he also seemed to find the idea of Armin dating someone else a little abhorrent. Bertholdt had proudly relayed this information, considering it a job well done.

Reiner did not apparently think so and liked to occasionally harass him about how they ‘should see this through to the end’. In the meantime, Jaeger is still sleeping with the teacher - by now very common knowledge - who is by all accounts, an utter asshole.

Honestly, you couldn’t care less about what he’s doing. You do consider Armin a friend and wish him happiness, but you would just as soon distance yourself from the loud and irresponsible Eren as much as possible. You will never say it, but you really think Armin should find someone a little more worth his time. Regardless, you’re not at all interested in getting involved. Other people’s business is very much their own business, and unless they expressly ask you for help you will leave well enough alone.

Reiner just shakes his head as he unlocks the door to your apartment building. “He has to do something.”

“No he doesn’t,” you say immediately, because he doesn’t.

“Don’t you want them to end up like us?” he says, tone unmistakably teasing. 

“I didn’t do anything, though.” 

He shoots you an ‘oh please’ look over his shoulder, but you just roll your eyes. You don’t even feel bad about it this time.

…

“I don’t want to go home for Christmas,” you mutter, reading over the impersonal texts from your mother for the tenth time.

Reiner rests his hand on your shoulder. “Yeah. Don’t I know it. At least it’s only a few days, right? Jean’s mom is making him come for the whole break. That’s more than a fucking month.”

You wrinkle your nose at the idea, although it doesn’t really do much to break your mood. You wouldn’t so much call yourself depressed as you are overwhelmed with morose resignation. Reiner squeezes your shoulder. 

“Come shower with me.”

You huff at him, but you don’t argue. It’d taken him quite a lot of convincing to get you to do this the first time - you’re a very private person, and something about it seems so personal and embarrassing - but now you have to admit that it’s actually strangely relaxing. 

That convincing had actually had a lot less to do with convincing and a lot more to do with him working you up and then taking you there to finish the job, but thinking back to that gets you awfully flustered. Reiner could be shockingly clever sometimes, and he knew that if he got you to do it once you were much too logical to use the same arguments you’d used against it before.

You were right about showering being personal. There’s an incredible level of intimacy to doing it with someone you trust, and you know that is more than likely exactly why you’ve come to enjoy it so much. It did not take much time once you were actually in a relationship for you to realize that quiet intimacy is absolutely what makes you tick.

You’d been suspicious he was doing this to get you to talk, but to your pleasant surprise he doesn’t say anything. The almost-scalding water runs over both of you, and soon he moves closer to press against your back; slide his arms around your waist and pull you into him. You can’t help but relax a little, everything is warm and Reiner is here and the falling water makes a white noise almost as comforting as a heartbeat. 

“... we can probably stay at my parents’ house, you know. I don’t really think your folks would care.”

Dammit.

“I don’t know.”

“I told my parents ages ago. They’re totally cool. Weren’t even surprised.”

You suddenly freeze up. Oh god, you hadn’t even _thought_ about that.

“Bertl, Bertl, Bertl…” he puts his chin on your shoulder, trying to placate you. “It’s really fine. Not a big deal at all. You know they like you and they’ve known for years that I’m gay and come on, I’m pretty sure any asshole can put two and two together.”

“... even I did eventually.” You are trying not to have a meltdown here.

“Come on. You know I didn’t mean it like that. Who gives a fuck about your parents, ok?”

Oh my god. You hadn’t even moved on to that worry yet. You let out a long, shaky breath, then give what you hope is a sardonic and humorless laugh but probably sounds totally pathetic. You’re not sure you can pull off sardonic anything.

“... Bertl,” he says quietly.

You take a few more breaths and force yourself to think logically. If you’re honest with yourself, you really don’t care what your parents think. What you’re really worried about is subjecting yourself to yet more people’s opinions about your relationship - the relationship you’ve only so recently struggled into accepting yourself. You’re worried about how to act in front of Reiner’s family, you’re worried about Annie’s knowing smirks and thinly veiled comments, and you’re very worried about running into anyone else you went to high school with.

You realize you should probably voice this, because Reiner is really misinterpreting what’s bothering you.

“I don’t want people to… make a _thing_ out of it again.”

He buries his face against your neck, giving a resigned sigh. “Won’t be the same. Promise.”

Leaning against him, you try really hard not to think about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> its just bert being bert again this isnt going to turn into some big battling homophobia thing i promise

**Author's Note:**

> b kind re wind


End file.
